Perspective

James watched. He could not help himself. He wanted to look away but what he saw pulled at him. Before him lay a woman. Spread eagled on a bed. Bound by ropes and chain. Blind folded and hardly moving. Wires running to her vagina and breast. He was not ignorant. Just that you hear about these things and sort of dismiss them. Not in my backyard sort of thing. A retired Navy man with over twenty-two years in the service. He thought had seen it all. ...

Selma's Recollection

Part 1: The Trial I held my breath as the eleven men and one woman entered the courtroom through the door which led down a hall to the jury room. My fingers on both hands were crossed, and, if my toes were looser in my conservative three-inch pumps, my toes would be crossed as well. The jury foreman; an older white male with dark hair; greying on the sides above his ears, making him look quite distinguished; handed a slip of paper to the bailiff, which the bailiff promptly handed to the judge. The process seeming to take forever; though my lungs still held the air they had taken in when the door on the side of the courtroom first opened and the jurists returned. The judge unfolded the piece of paper, glanced at it, then set it on his bench. ...