Remote Justice

By Ann

I am standing in front of the door.  I press the remote lock two times.  Nothing.  So I press again.  Nothing.  My arms are getting tired because I'm holding my briefcase and umbrella.  Finally, my dog loses his mind as he watches this display of incompetence and begins to yelp which breaks me out of my idiotic and confused trance.  It is at this moment that I realize that I am trying to unlock my front apartment door with my car remote.
It's not my fault.  I'm in trial mode and there is simply no room for anything else.

I am preparing for a trial.  It is not a particularly egregious crime and it isn't even a felony trial.  And yet, I have been haunted with nightmares and anxiety ever since I started reading through the investigation.  This is because I am scared to death.
I'm not new at this.  I have been doing this job for a few years and I have several felony acquittals under my belt. I'm comfortable and seasoned in criminal jury trials.  I shouldn't even be concerned. But I am.  I am more than concerned.  I am dying a thousand deaths.  This is because I should win this case. I should win and my client should go free.
But one never knows what a jury will do.  I don't know what will make them decide my client's fate.  And it doesn't help that my client is not like-able at all.  He looks ghetto and crazy.  But crazy doesn't mean guilty.  And while I can't talk about the specifics because they are not a matter of public record yet - I will say this- there is no bigger burden on a defense attorney that surmounts the knowledge and belief that your client is not guilty and yet you don't  have any control over whether or not the crushing fist of injustice will annihilate him.
I can only prepare.  And prepare.  And prepare.
Then I can hope for the best.