“That’s mighty nice of you, Warden.”
“I’m going to miss, you, Andy.”
“Sorry I can’t say the same.”
“How long you been here?”
“Twenty-two years, four months, six days, 11.5 hours.”
“How many appeals?”
“Lost count. You know I didn’t kill them folks.”
“Yeh, Andy, I do. I really thought that last appeal would come through. Well, I can’t go any farther. You have to walk up the steps alone.”
Andy looked up at the noose swinging over the platform above.
“Everybody dies alone, Warden,” and he turned and walked up the steps.