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The Magistrate
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Vignettes My hands are tied. His flail in the air as he sits atop a high horse lecturing me on the importance of civic responsibility - a subject on which we deplorably disagree. Anyone exploring authority issues will eventually meet this guy. The superficiality of his voice fades into the background, replaced by a high-pitched whine. The scenery spins and we sit opposing at an austere table, equals. We've descent into the deepest recess of our psyches, he & I connected, each shadow aspects of the other. Arrived at the dominion of Justice herself, toga-clad, she removes the blindfold from her own eyes and places it over his mouth. I notice that the shackles from my wrists now hold him bound. Cogent she pontificates, "Sometimes we must get this close to evil in order to subdue it. But first we must deconstruct the adversarial view." She lays a finger at my temple, "Who, how, when was the magistrate placed here?"
