"Every night I wake up several times. I have nightmares of executions. Images from the ten public executions I witnessed as a reporter in order to write about them over the past several years keep moving in front of my eyes as if they are frames of a movie being rewound and fast forwarded. The most persistent image is that of the two men in their twenties who were hanged on the north side of Artists House Park. It was dawn, after the morning call to prayer. Their necks were broken by the rope, and, suspended in the air, their bodies kept swinging like two dolls. The screaming and howling of women, said to be their mothers and sisters, came from the police kiosk nearby, filling the air and swirling through the trees in the park."

By AnonymousTranslated from Persian by Poupeh Missaghi