The People's Examiner fresh from the New London Printhouse!

“C’mon Thomas, stop dawdling!”

Henry was pushing forward, through the rowdy crowd that was slowly but steadily gathering around the main generator. Thomas could barely catch up with his newsie friend. No wonder, the public executions still created quite a stir in New London, so there were always quite a lot of eager viewers present to witness the painful demise of a fellow citizen.

Luckily, Henry and Thomas were small enough to squeeze through the human wall without problems. Well, not entirely without problems. A tall man muffled in a thick coat gave Thomas an angry stare when the boy bumped into his knee. This incident almost made Thomas lose the still-pushing forward friend from his sight.

Yet, finally, boys managed to finally emerge from the crowd just in front of a few dozen yards from the base of the generator. From up close it seemed even larger and higher than usual, just like a finger of a giant pointing up toward the sky. For a while, Thomas decided to enjoy the warmth coming from the generator's loud, humming bowels. It was so peaceful - the boy almost didn’t want to ruin the whole experience by looking at the execution platform.

Yet, it stood there - sad, lonely, with two poles on its sides, both wrapped up in chains. For a moment Thomas felt a cold shiver of dread - it was almost as if the site was greased with pain and misery of the executions that took place there for 30 years, long before Thomas was born.

The tumult of crowded people pulled Thomas out of his thoughtful state. The noise came from the direction of the city’s main street.

“He’s coming”, said Henry straight to his companion’s ear.

A moment before, they were surrounded by talks and whispers, now shouts and calumnies have arisen among the crowd. People who were standing behind the boys were slowly moving to the sides to make room for someone who was making their way toward the generator.

He was there, the convict. Screaming in a language that sounded foreign to Thomas’ ears.

“I’ve heard he went mad, Tom’, said Henry, trying to outshout the voices of other viewers. “He went off the rails, I tell ya. Left his entire expedition to die in the frost” added the boy.

Indeed, the man looked insane, screaming and jerking his cuffed hands to the sides, trying to free himself from the clutches of four municipal guards. That seemed strange to Thomas, as the convicts he has seen so far seemed devoid of will to fight or to live entirely. A long period of rotting in a cold prison cell probably did that to even the bravest soul.

This convict seemed built from sterner stuff. All of a sudden, he even managed to break free from his captors' strong embraces and ran towards Thomas himself! For a split second, he reached the boy and grabbed the flaps of his jacket.

“They are there!!!” yelled the man straight towards Thomas’ face. He was so close that the newsie could smell his breath, warm and stinking with a half-digested alcoholic beverage. The boy was stiff like an ice block from fear. “They are there!” yelled the man once more, before the strong hands of the guards tore him off Thomas and threw on the cold guard.

It was only then that Thomas managed to compose himself. Especially that the people who were beating and kicking the man on the ground failed to see that he had lost his cap