They Laughed At Me In Court Until The Judge Learned Who I Really Was

the cheap wood of the defendant’s chair pressing into the backs of my legs, I could feel the recorder in my blazer pocket, the raised metal button warm against my thumb. I pressed it. A faint vibration answered me. No sound, no light, nothing anyone in that room would have noticed if they had been paying attention to anything other than their own amusement.continue reading …