Early morning. A small room. A lit bulb sways overhead.
Below, a young man in a cheap wooden chair, head down, hands bound with thick rope. He shivers despite the warm, stale air.
An old man steps forward, razor in hand. He places the sharp blade against taut olive skin. Slow, graceful strokes follow, leaving the criminal’s neck smooth. The guillotine will make quick work.
The old man repacks his equipment. A job well done. A career now complete.
What’s next? He hasn’t given it thought.
But he knows times change. Laws change. People evolve. And now… so must he.
