Gemotions

The courtroom buzzed with anticipation, the air thick with tension. Daniel sat rigid, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. The diagnosis of his rare form of aphasia had made simple communication impossible. He had to rely on a court-appointed translator to get his thoughts across. He loathed being the center of attention.

He felt the weight of every gaze, the scrutiny of the jury, the cold indifference of the prosecution. He wanted to disappear.

The prosecuting attorney, a woman, made a sharp gesture to the judge and started to speak. Then, in a brief break, as a court officer placed a glass of water on the table, she met his gaze, and slowly nodded. She took a deep breath. She hesitated before continuing.