Crinkle
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
Crinkle. Crinkle.
Crunch.
A woman clears her throat.
Someone across the room sneezes.
A number of people mumble “Bless you.” from around the room.
Someone behind me yawns loudly.
Two older women laugh quietly in the corner.
The phone rings softly.
“14 jurors will be escorted out into the courtrooms in 5-10 minutes.”
“Yes!” a young man whispers loudly from behind me.
The phone rings again.
Someone behind me whispers quietly.
“Jurors, 28 of you will be escorted to the courtrooms shortly.”
Two women cough at the same time.
Someone sneezes.
A phone goes off (loudly).
Loud squeaks echo through the room (the benches are old).
The flipping of magazine pages slices the frigid air.
“Oh, my gosh. I cannot believe that.”
Two women carry on a conversation in front of me.
The woman to my right coughs.
The humming of the air conditioner seems so low and loud
– it’s rumble hurts my ears.
Someone sniffles.
A man in front of me is asleep with his head slung over the top of a bench.
Someone shuffles around, digging through their bag.
Crinkle.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
I’m going crazy just sitting here.
Live. Laugh. Learn.
Roxana