The judge's gavel slams hard on the wooden bench. The judge is calling for order, and no one is listening. Around Julia, the entire court room is clamoring for the head of the slight, grey-haired man who sits at the other table. An especially loud shout carries an explitive that Julia didn't know was still used across the room. Flash! How did they get camera in here?
Julia rolls over, and her head throbs. The alarm clock just continues beeping, and she rolls over the other lump in the bed, her boyfriend, to smack it a couple times. A groan escapes her as she picks up her phone. Multiple notifications come up, but none of them woke her. Damn! She is going to be late for work. Grabbing a piece of toast, she pulls on the last of her clothes in her mad dash and runs out the door.
The interview room feels both dank and stark at once. Julia sits and waits for the convicted a****** to come in. He has burned four buildings, three of them hospitals, in the past month. And now they have caught him. Despite the grisly back story, a smile splits her lips because this guy is facing a sentencing hearing tomorrow where they will decide on life without parole, or the death penalty. As he enters, Julia is struck by his looks. A grandfatherly face looking out from two coke-bottle lenses, with thick white hair brushed back from his large forehead, makes her think of Mister Magoo crossed with Santa.
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