‘What…?’ I blurt. Woodhouse grimaces and shakes his head. ‘Go and hear it,’ he tells me. ‘But don’t believe a word. It’s a trick, lad....It’s a joke. There’s not a hope they’ll let ‘un out.’ ‘Come on,’ the turnkey insists, slapping the cudgel he’s carrying into the palm of his hand. ‘The gent hasn’t got all day to wait on a dog-turd scutter like you.’ I take the hint and scramble to my feet. Two days later I’m in the crowd outside those desperate walls. I see Woodhouse brought up to the scaffold.. It was beautiful. The walls were a crimson red as was the carpet. The king sized bed in the center was decorated with black sheets that, upon running my hand over them, were made of the finest silk. 4 posts held up a giant canopy with black netting. It looked like my dream room. Although, I was curious.“What? No coffin?” I chuckled and he smirked.“Don’t believe all your fairy tales. We don’t all sleep in coffins. I’ve met a few that do but I don’t find them comfortable. Especially sharing one. More

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