Vanity. Ares

even more so when he went in for the kill and
asked about the whole ménage a trios incident
with myself, Martinq and Gerard: “Did you know
of the defendant’s reason for leaving France?" he
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AA
said, with an air of self indulgent impress. "You
had of course learnt of the ménage a trios?”
Beckett replied, “I actually don’t really remember
all that really. I know Carly mentioned it, but I
aint really know really.” I shook my head at
Beckett’s response, mostly because the picture
seemed to be becoming more distorted and my
truth seemed like a twisted metal. As my truth felt
like that; only my truth. I found this unfortunate
as being on trial meant my truth was of course not
the blatant Universal truth, that would see me
eating Burrito’s or perhaps in a Jazz bar giggling
with Maria. Beckett soon stood down and the
judge then called Maria to the witness box, whom
then walked to the witness box looking like a true
starlet with her hair looking as if she had just
been to the hairdressers, and her red lips looking
like a fancy make-up Artist had applied their
touch.
At that point, in my mind, I had renamed
the witness box the stage of the masquerade; as by
then that which occurred within in it seemed so
full of antics the public, the juror’s, the press and
myself were merely vainly role-playing. With
Maria’s flowing brunette hair and bright red lips,
which like all great starlet’s exuded a confident
authentic nonchalance, accentuated by her face
expression that looked moody from her gentle
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