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Vanity. Ares

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Magistrates and of course that there would be

more procedures and interviews. "There will be a

few more forms, procedures and such, but this is a

priority," he said, and how lucky was I! Again the

feeling of it being a to-do wafted into my mind.

Especially as Connor was in fact quite jolly at that

time; speaking with a smile and a pacey tone. I

think he deemed that the case would be big,

perhaps an opportunity for him, I guessed;

perhaps even once in a lifetime. He seemed to a

smile a bit more than I would expect, although he

still avoided eye contact, a deadly strike against

him noted — the remnants instilled from cons.

Before he left my cell he gave me a handshake,

just as weak as his initial one, and a pat on my

shoulder that I felt was in an effort to try to build

camaraderie. Before he left, he also said: “I could

use a good coffee, and a bath.” which made me

feel that he was rather unprofessional and would

not have been my first choice. The ineptitude of

him and the whole procedure seemed like

punishment enough, more so as I was not fed, no

Burrito’s, nothing. This was made worse as I had

not even tasted that last slice of pizza. The rest of

that night into the dawn was full of time mostly

spent with the lingering smell of KFC emanating

off my uncleaned arm and my stomach growling.

With a growling stomach and just the

sound of my thoughts, that first night was when

the nightmares first occurred; I was in a room;

four walls, noise from above, not God, as it

sounded like Jazz: a piano playing boogie woogie

69

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