Argument Enough

Twelve adamant men, a jury of her peers all convinced, all but one,
of Ramona’s guilt, of the fact she stolen photon torpedoes from the Sun
Cruiser and sold them to terrorists on Orion. But this one holdout
on Vega, a tall, lean man with steely eyes and thin moustache, looked about
the room at the other eleven jurors, one by one, and with laser-like stare
burned five minute glares into countenances made up, hard as the rare
stone found in the iridium minds so common on Vega. At first, stone faces
were not moved, but then, one by one the jowls began to sag and traces
of relent twinkled in twenty two eyes oh so ready to put Ramona away.
The jury room was silent save for the ceiling fan’s gentle hum that day.
Marcus Backus did not need to say a single word; his stares, indeed
were argument enough, a case of convince, a farmer planting seed
into closed minds swayed by the smooth talk of prosecution’s spiel.
But Marcus knew, his stomach told him, deep inside he had a feel
for her innocence, the long, black hair and the beautiful dark eyes
and lips that were as radiant and stunning as Vega’s night skies,
a universe of charm which was Ramona, demur, milky white skin
of femininity, bosomy, a smile to ward off any coldness therein.
One by one each adamant man, each juror ready to set the lock
changed their vote to innocent and therefore let Ramona walk.
Marcus gloated for a week, proud he had stopped a wrong
until they nabbed her with the goods. She was the thief all along.

22 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
October 24, 2013