Vanity. Ares

expression would suit such an act of the trial —
the options being perhaps a sad frown, or perhaps
I was supposed to look to the floor once the judge
read out the accusations or maybe take on a blank
expression of neither a smile or frown; something
in the middle, as if I was just taking stock like the
face I would have after a strong round of drinks
gave me a life-is-happening-and-I-am-just-a-witness
look to it. I continued to wonder and questioned
whether to even look defiant; perhaps clench my
fist on occasion in order to illicit an indignant and
staunch innocence. I knew I had to decide quickly
as all the eyes in attendance within the courtroom
felt as if they were on my face, which was full of
hair as I had let it grow those last few months
before the trial. In the end, I chose to allow my
expression to be the type I would have after too
many glasses of Brandy, and I made this choice
because I felt stiff and that things were rather
anti-climatic in feeling — Just before the trial
begun it all seemed rather mundane: papers
ruffled, chat was had, jokes between the clerk and
the illustrator were enjoyed.
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Chapter 4 — 9.42 - Monday, La Masquerade Act 1
In the chatter, the Judge spoke: “Can we
get a little quiet,” she said, as I noticed her
scratching her wigged head, which was looking
out of the window above the jurors. From this I
guessed that she was probably having the same
thoughts on freedom as myself. That is when I
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