Death Sentence- the therapy

the death sentence- the therapy

Heso was not sure where he went wrong. He was not sure what triggered her anger that boiled over like a red mountain throwing  up.
She was grasping a heavy metal club, screaming and closing in on him. He scampered backwards until he reached the windowsill.
Then she struck. The window glasses shattered, the wall edges cracked, and split. And that was his sudden route of escape, he realised. And threw himself through the window, crashing on the pavement. Then he rose, ran and jumped over the spiky fence into his neighbour garden.

Dream Another Day : Chief Justice Nne Wilcox

Chief Justice Nne Wilcox

Nne looks at her watch, it was 4:00 a.m. The stray lights at the portico, the house opposite hers, bouncing off the pillars, stream through the glass windows into the room. She watches this for a while. Then shakes her head, shuts the blinds and the windows as well, and walks back to where her husband.

“She is my friend, Honey. Please acquit her,” she pleads, holding him. 
He smiles, and drops his writing pen.
Darling, it won’t work. Even the blind finds her guilty. All the evidences point at her. She authorized the funds and spent the funds without appropriations. Darling, she is going in for it.”
She moved away from him.
“She is an orphan. We watched her grow. She’s our adopted.”
“This excuse is rubbish. Won’t stand before any law.”