Daisies for Miriam Dunpass

Miriam sat frozen in her rocking chair. Her clothes were covered in soot. She was exhausted, yet her focus remained fixed on something—something she couldn't explain or let go. The wooden front door creaked open. It was Harry, an acquaintance from town.

"Things are stacked against you, Midge," Harry said in a flat tone, staring out the window. His presence was usually reassuring; though not quite a friend, he was someone Miriam felt she could trust. Even so, her eyes instinctively checked to see if he was armed.

Harry stepped inside. Miriam wouldn't have heard him knock anyway over the roar of the mob gathering outside, growing more unruly by the second. She gripped the armrests of her chair tighter.

"You see, folks just want to hear your side of it," Harry continued, his eyes drifting over her fresh scars and burn marks.

"I did it. It was me," Miriam said, her expression distant, as if she were still reliving the act. "I burned down the Hamisch beet farm." She locked eyes with him and whispered, "I saw myself do it."

Harry didn't know what to make of that. Removing his hat out of respect, he wiped his brow and knelt beside her.

"Midge, there's an angry crowd out there. Some of them have drawn their irons, and the saloons are emptying fast. You stay glued to me when we step outside."

He took her arm and helped her up from the chair. Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the door.

A deafening roar erupted the moment they crossed the threshold.

"Guilty!" the crowd screamed. "Hang her!"

Harry kept Miriam close, his eyes scanning desperately for the sheriff or any deputy willing to restore order to the circus.

The vitriol barely registered with Miriam. The world was a blur—save for a lone man in a top hat who showed no anger at all. He watched her with an all-knowing expression. Miriam reached up, turned Harry's face toward him, and gasped, "Him!"

"Keep calm, woman," Harry muttered.

Miriam pointed directly at the stranger, and Harry followed her finger through the chaos. Before he could react, Sheriff Ezekiel seized Miriam by the arm and shoved her forward.

"Miriam Dunpass, you are under arrest for the burning of the Hamisch farm and the murder of Jon Hamisch!"

Stunned by the accusation, Harry lost his grip on her. "Midge? What is the sheriff talking about? I heard about the fire, but a killing?"

Miriam looked back at him, hollow-eyed. "I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't stop her."

"That's a confession!" Sheriff Ezekiel barked, hauling her toward the town square alongside his deputies.

At the center of town, a noose was already being hung on a makeshift podium by the judge himself. Miriam was dragged onto it. Her eyes darted wildly through the sea of faces, searching for the man in the top hat, searching for an answer.

"Look here! Look here, good people!" the judge yelled, working the mob into a frenzy.

Miriam stared past him toward the horizon, her gaze lost in infinity. The judge’s rant and the jeers of the crowd washed over her without leaving a mark.

Suddenly, the noose hung right before her eyes. Framed within the circle of rope, she saw him again: the man in the top hat. His knowing gaze captured hers, their thoughts seemingly locking across the distance.

A deputy took hold of the rope. Just as the stranger slowly closed his eyes, the loop slipped over her head.

Like a blanket, a new world open upon around her. She suddenly saw herself standing in an endless field of daisies, holding her husband's hand.

The deputy kicked the bench out from beneath her.

Miriam plummeted toward the daisies, falling towards the earth, seeing herself kissing her husband one last time.