Jury Duty

Copyright©1993 Evans and Savidge

by Vaughan Savidge

 

The letter had arrived in Diane's absence.

 

Jury Duty. It had such a ring to it. At long last here was a chance to do something important - to sentence a criminal to death. Well, at the very least life imprisonment. She had decided that this was probably the lightest sentence she could hand down, whatever the crime. She owed it to herself. A measly three months suspended sentence would hardly be worth a passing comment on the cocktail circuit. God knew she had little enough to talk about as it was.

 

And this was her big day. Diane had spent several hours deciding what to wear, and had opted finally for a judicial robe and white wig topped by an original Italian Yakamoto black cap. Failure to find a gavel had been repaired by a visit to her husband's tool box. Accessories were so important.

 

"Shut up" said the judge, for the third time. "Shut up or I will hold you in contempt."

 

"Who me" said Diane innocently.

 

"No, the other fellow" he said. "The one who keeps speaking the moment I finish" he added in an irritated tone.

 

"There he did it again" he added. "And again. Shut up or you'll go to jail".

 

You mean me.

 

"Yes you. Who the hell are you?"

 

Well I provide the storyline, and Diane's thoughts, such as they are.

 

"I see. So you're really her imagination?"

 

Yes I suppose so.

 

"By the powers invested in me" said the judge as he delved into the refrigerator beneath his bench checking his supply of anti-biotics ...

 

"For God's sake stop that" he said putting his black cap on.

 

"I sentence you to death" he added as Diane fainted.

 

"That's it. I'm tired of this I'm going to strangle you with my own hands."

 

No need. I'll just vanish back into her psyche. So when she wakes up from this faint and makes some absurd remark and you think there's nothing between those ears, just remember ...

 

"Get going before I come over there and ... oh. He's gone."

 

"Next case please"

 

... he shouted.