Summer Sky. (A Basket Case.)

It seemed strange that I could admire the beautiful, deep blue sky at such a time. I was surprised that on the most dreadful morning of my short, troubled life, I would even notice, let alone, enjoy the simple splendour of a gorgeous summer sky. The richest blue I'd ever seen, with pure white cotton wool clouds floating lazily by.
And yet, as my jelly legs climbed the creaking wooden steps, Mother Nature’s pretty distraction gave me an unexpected strength for my imminent ordeal. What I’d been dreading, didn’t seem quite so bad after all.
The world was still beautiful and life would go on. For some.
As I reached the platform, the sweet aroma of roses filled my head with blissful memories of summers past. The joy was as fleeting as the blink of an eye. Chased away by sudden, thudding, overwhelming sadness
I remembered the merciful advice of minutes earlier. “Don’t hesitate or all is lost.”
I walked swiftly to the low, wooden block, kneeled and placed my neck in the half circle. Instantly, with false bravery, I held out my arms in readiness. A bead of water dropped onto the sawdust, inches below my face. Perspiration or a tear ? I knew not. Nor cared.
I just longed to see the blue summer sky one last time.
I heard a swoosh and the roar of a crowd then silence.
My wish was granted. Once again I admired the summer sky, as my head settled in the basket.