Going outside to die. That’s what it will be. I haven’t been free to walk outside for ever so long, and I wish I could just walk away from the guards and the King’s men and the hangman, just go to the baker and buy a warm roll and take it back to my sisters and eat it and hug her wee fat baby and drink tea and listen to her talk about nothing. The baby will never know me now. No family is allowed to see me here. I wonder if they’ll come to watch? I hope they don’t.
