“I wanted to be a writer,” I answered the reporter’s question. “I had a great imagination as a kid. Played lots of cops and robbers back then.”
Time had a way of cheating me though. Before I knew it, I was a teenager and what dreams I had fell away pretty quickly against the reality of growing up.
The reporter scribbled something in his notebook and then said, “At what point in your life did you know you were going to be a career criminal?”
“That first drug deal, I guess.” I had to think about it for a second. I’d always told myself that all this was just temporary, but I knew I was lying.
“Yeah, I guess I always knew there was no turning back.”
“And now you’re on death row,” he prompted.
I quipped, “Don’t do crime in Texas.” We both laughed, but then I sobered.
“If you could do it all over, what would you change?”
“I think I’d slow it down,” I replied. " If you live fast, before you know it, life’s gone."
Long after he’d gone, my last answer lingered on my mind.
Time goes by so quickly.