Stolen Justice

Wilma slipped into a row of seats halfway between the large entry door and the prosecutor’s table. She inched to the middle, sat and clutched her purse to her chest. Her eyes roamed the backs of the men seated in front of the judge’s bench. He was there.

She squeezed her eyelids tight into slits and set her mouth in a pucker. Her sight glued on the black hair of his large head. The hatred for the corrupt defense attorney still boiled after the months of postponements. The arrogant Richard Heinz, she reluctantly had to accept, was a brilliant lawyer. At last, his delays had come to an end. The hearing was taking place. Wilma allowed her lips to ease into a smirk expecting the outcome to be a jury trial.

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Comments

The intro was amazing!

It’s cool. thanks for posting

Regards,
Joshua

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