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My Friend Rama

I left the building through the back door not wanting to talk to the media mass out front. The hot Arkansas sun and the humidity hit me like I had stepped into a sauna sapping my body of all energy and it felt like I was walking underwater beginning the two block trek to my office.

Climbing the steps to my building I went from walking underwater to climbing Mt. Everest.

It was Friday afternoon and the office was practically deserted with only the receptionist in the lobby.

"I heard the news on the radio, congratulations Ms.Wagner." "Thanks Betty Jo" I managed to mumble.

Dropping my overloaded briefcase and purse on the floor I sat down with my arms crossed on the desk and lay my head on them sobbing uncontrollably.

I had been through a grueling three month trial as the prosecutor in the [censored] of a fourteen year old black girl. I had put every fiber of my being in the trial of the son of the richest man in the small city of Portersville. ...

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