Gas

Steven Berkoff

Three prisoners await the gas that will finally extinguish them, appearing here simply as nameless figures at their mortal end. The cold, last moments of their being are laid out as though on an undertaker's slab, last desperate prayers are uttered, and exchanges so pitiful and grasping are made in a desperate attempt to mean something. At the end comes not a prayer or scream, but the simple protestation of five simple, gasping, repeated statements of love.