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The Lone Pillar.

Athlone Ireland, a man gets ushered into a horse and cart with three other people in with him, he was ordered to go to the back of the cart with chains rattling from each person as he stepped by, the stink of the cart would make any person feel woozy, each person's face was gloom as they knew what is to come, the ride was bumpy and loud, one man vomited of the edge of the wagon, the guards held there spears and swords at the wagon to guarantee that no person would escape.


The man that we’re following looked down at his feet avoiding eye contact with anyone as he prayed in silence, from the distance he could hear roaring and cheering, because of that each person in the carriage looked noticing the streets where littered with people excited on what's to come.


The only woman in the cart put her hands together and for the first time in months she prayed aloud trying to justify her actions “please forgive me father, I know not what I did to deserve this, my husband committed adultery and for his sin I ask you this, throw him down to the pits of hell...”


One of the guards hit the wood shouting “be quiet in there.”


The cart stopped a mile away from this lone pillar of death, a Guillotine that stood in the centre of the town, each person on the cart stayed silent staring at it, as the crowd roared even louder making those on the cart unable to think and the stress barely bearable to control, the Garda ushered the first person out to people throwing stones at him.


It felt like only minutes had passed until the next one was hauled away to that forsaken pillar, the next person got pulled down of the cart, he as fear hit him he tried to run, but the guards stopped that by knocking him out, they then dragged him to the Guillotine, with the people throwing food at his knocked-out body.


The second last person was up now, the female just looked down accepting her fate, people through mud and shit at her or anything that they could find, they did that all the way up to the steps.


Now it was finally the man's turn the Garda told him “Out you get.”


The man gets up and slowly walks to the edge of the cart he steps out to a blaring heat blinding him for just a moment, finally getting a good look at this beaten-up man, there where bruises on his face and some hair was ripped out of his head, the patchy beard didn't cover much of his face the only thing that was clean was his uniform, although it was ripped in a few places it was mostly clean. The garda pulled on his chain yanking him to his knees with them then forcing him to his feet and pushes him forward.


He walked the road with his head down and no noise came from the crowd, no person through a thing, each person watched in silence scoffing at him as he passes the silence of the crowd was chaotic and uncontrollable, he could feel many of the peoples judging eyes look over him, one person from the crowd, a man, threw food at the man shouting, “your murderer you killed my child.”


Through his final mile he thought back on what transpired that day.


Five years prier, he walks down the street of Athlone waving to everyone as he was known in the city as a kind friendly man, a random man of the street shouts “how goes it today?”


The man smiles waving back at him saying “it can't be better, my wife pregnant and will pop any day now.”


He walks of happy as could be down the road getting grocery's, getting in the shop he couldn't keep a smile of his face, he gets it and walks to the counter whistling a happy tune the shopkeeper smiles as he walks off back home and again many of the people still waving and being kind to him as he passes.


Going outside Athlone to a far-out lone bungalow where smoke came from the chimney and the air didn't feel quite right, he still had a while to go but the house was in view, as he continued forward his heart started to race feeling something isn't right, he walked faster and faster with him now in a slight jog and his mind racing on what's happening.


He gets to the door and hesitates to open it, sweat beating down his face, then hesitating no longer, he grabs the door latch pulling it open to the shock and horror of what he seen, he falls to the floor with it covered in blood.


Meanwhile in the present day he continues walking as still no noise came from the crowd as he walked to the steps of the lone pillar the man gives a sigh, the guards grabbed the chain untying the hands and feet connections, then they take out a hook and latched it onto the hook dragging him up the stairs.


Back five years ago a father and a garda at that, this man was tall and well-built towering over most people the only thing that could catch him was his growing age, he walked around his house bored as could be, wondering what he could do to pass the time, then something came into his mind, that he would visit his pregnant daughter and his baboon of a son in law.


He grabs his coat and hat and walks out to his horse jumping on it and rides of to his daughter’s house, he smiles as he continues to ride as the sun started to beat the rocks, he goes up the hill seeing his daughters house at the bottom with smoke coming from the chimney a black smoke, he gets of the horse and walks to the house seeing the front door opened halfway.


He gets to the door putting his hands on it and pushes it open, what he saw, no father would bare to witness, the man she called a husband holding his daughter bleeding, him crying not knowing what to do, the blood on the floor flowing leading out through the front door, the man cradling his wife looking at the father with his eyes asking for help, but the father had none of it, he ran at the man with his face full of rage decking him to the floor, beating his face pummeling it to the ground until he was satisfied he had enough.


Once he finished punching him, yet not killing him, he turns to his daughter and falls to his knees picking his daughter up now crying holding her close.


That brings us to present day the man, the husband in chains and the father in the crowd watching on. The man takes one step at a time, but being dragged up by the guards he tripped half ways up the stairs, he gets up forcefully by the guards so he can continue walking up the to the podium where the guillotine stood.


Getting to the top he looks upon this contraption of death, the National Razor, The Silence Mill, its sharp edge was soaked in dry blood, and the bucket below had those other prisoners inside it, his heart started to race for he knew what is to come, but he tries to hide it with a plane expression, but not very well, his teeth chatter and he looks out to the crowd with them just looking back at him.


A man with a long grey beard stood beside the piler dressed in black, he was the executioner a person chastised by the town but is needed to keep the blood of other people's hands, so he the executioner looks at this man with saddened knowing smile, he tries to help him to the board, but the man go’s and lays on the board with the executioner tying him down.


As crows flew overhead pouching on the buildings around it the silence still unwavering, he feels a cold gust breezing past, hitting each pore, making a shiver go down his spine feeling like an arrow shot down through it.


He lays down on the board sighing taking his final few breaths, then the executioner asks, “any final words?”


With the man proclaiming, “I am Colm, and I'm an innocent man, I know not who killed by wife, but I myself did not...”


While he spoke, the father looked on in silence still seething in anger, but as the sun was highest in the sky, each individual looks at the man continuing to talk.


“Have I ever harmed any of thy, no, then why would I harm my wife, that would make no sense, I loved her, loved her more than anyone.” but he stops as he realized no one would buy it as he was seen as a murderer.


He sighs and the executioner looks at him pulling the rope, as it fell, he looked at the father and the father even though he felt hatred he looked away, away from it falling on his neck, the last thought that went through the man's head was (you can't even look upon your creation, you can't look upon what you did, your such a coward.)


The head flung of and landed into the basket with the last thing the man say was the bright sky with clouds forming overhead and the last thing he could hear was the silence in the air and the wind that flew by.


The father walks off neither feeling satisfied nor angry at what happened, he walks of back to his horse, as he sat on the horse looking at the crowd as it dissipates, he could see in amongst the crowd a lone being looking at the pillar, a person wearing a pure white cloak, enroughty with gold and silver light, continuing to stare at this being enchanted by the beauty of it, he notices a man slightly aloof to the eye walk up to this being.


A gust of wind hit his eyes with him closing his eyes whipping away what annoyed him, he looked back to where they stood, but the two people disappeared, the father sighs and rides off home feeling empty.

 

story:

Ethan McCloskey


the art:



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