The Murderess

And now, to tonight's presentation of radio's outstanding theater on trails cause fends We bring you a trans-frog story of a day in the life of a woman who awaits an execution We call it the murderous So now, starring Kathy Lewis here as tonight's the sense play, the murderous Sleece had gone to that later, the night before

Red later Then to ensure the blessed passage of unconscious time, taken something to make her sleep, something to keep her from the slow morning hours. The bedside clock showed 8 a.m., but she knew it sometimes ran slow, and so she picked up the phone.

I will be eight and thirty seconds. Automatically she adjusted the clock, and noted the ashtray overflowing with half-smoked cigarette stubs.

11 hours and 15, 3 and a half minutes cheat the seconds and say 11 hours and 53 minutes exactly. It will be finished then. And she thought that she had promised herself she would think today. I know I can't help thinking about it. It's silly to try and push it away.

But I've got to occupy myself with every minute, every second, then the time will pass. There's lots of things to do. I didn't think I'd be able to sleep at all. And I did give five hours. I'm lucky.

We got out of bed and knowing the morning paper would be lying outside her door. She perversely delayed the moment when she would bring it in. Instead, going to the kitchen and turning on the flame under the kettle. It was at that moment of brushing teeth, washing face that she saw for the first time that day, the face and the mirror, her own. And she