Stephen King crossed the finish line earlier this week when “Coffey on the Mile,” the final segment of the six-part series “The Green Mile,” arrived on bookstore shelves. It’s a relief, really, to be done with this Dickensian experiment King evidently had to get out of his system. He did it. It was a best seller. And now it will be good to move on to a novel such as “Desperation,” available next month.

The series is the saga of Paul Edgecombe, and “Coffey on the Mile” finishes the story of this elderly man (who turns out to be more elderly than we thought) feverishly writing his memoirs of 1932. That was the year Cold Mountain Penitentiary, where Paul was prison guard for death row, had some pretty unusual — if not horrible and, indeed, miraculous — occurrences within its cell walls.

“Coffey on the Mile” brings John Coffey, the story’s mystical underdog who was convicted of murdering two young girls, to his harrowing walk toward the electric chair. This last chapter finds him in a most pitiable situation, one that converts him into a hero of sorts and changes Paul’s life forever.

Mr. Jingles, the entertaining pet mouse that figured so prominently in earlier chapters and held the promise of elephantine feats, never becomes very interesting, but justice is served to other, less cuddly characters.

As with the first five books in this series, “Coffey” goes overboard on crudity and details we might otherwise be just fine without. (Must we know the status of Paul’s bladder or the functions of men’s bowels in everything King writes?)

But the book also contains philosophical questions about the nature of salvation and damnation. When King weaves together his indisputable skill for storytelling and his refreshingly simple take on what it means to be alive in an unexplainable universe, the result is almost always good writing — and good reading. Luckily, “Coffey” wraps up with a good dose of this.

In a postscript, King admits he wouldn’t take on this type of challenge again — even though it was a financial success. For one thing, it gives critics that many more opportunities to — as he says — kick his ass. But also, the format required him to write quickly, which felt good but increased the chances for errors — or, as King calls them, anachronisms. Even Shakespeare suffered from that, King reminds his Constant Reader. And although the comparison might seem haughty to some, King may well prove to be the Shakespeare of the later 20th century.

And we can allow King, usually a meticulous writer, to make a few flubs. Even if it involves a six-part series that has more hype than hardiness. As Paul writes in the last line of the book: “Oh, God, the Green Mile is so long.” Ah, but it’s over now.