Vanity. Ares

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
A
exuding a desire to move; speaking in a sigh. "I
sentence the defendant to life imprisonment for
the Murder of Myra Rose with intent and malice to
kill. SHE was the real victim.”
Clenched fists, I didn't see the Devil
coming. The verdict hit me gently and not in that
instant; After hearing it I remember blanking out
for a while, as I stood, shocked, nausea induced. It
wasn't as if I wanted benediction, that was all
rumour, suspicion, but I wanted something that I
could sink my teeth into. A coliseum and a stoning
was one of the ways in which it was done in the
past, but I was a shuffle of a paper quickly ruffled
underneath the rest of the judges day at hand - the
prostitute. The fatal moment had no poetry. The
verdict felt totally anti-climatic, as I sat back in my
seat and just looked at the Jury; the turban, the
Sun reader, the yellow blazer. The injustice
loomed within the court room's excitement. The
press were scuttling about, the jurors picking up
their Sun newspapers and handbags. Police
officers begun escorting me out of the court room.
But, before I walked out Connor shook my hand,
and I remember that handshake feeling timid
whilst he said: “We’re going to really challenge
this with an appeal. There’s procedures I know but
it looks like the lobby’s are all of this… but we will
try.” I did not reply, as I was irritated by his
handshake and the verdict. As I was walking
through the court I looked at Anais’ face and I
remember thinking that it looked as stupid as it
did in the witness box; her wide open mouth
angered me - Her testimony seemed so weak: ‘No
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