The Hearing

Down there in the tangle of one-ways, dead-ends, lane-changers, construction pylons, and slow stoplights is the court house. A buzzing snarl of traffic flows in front of it. Metal detectors guard the doors. You can't find a spot to lock your bike. You hope it is still there when you return to it after the hearing. You have hopes for the hearing, hope that truth, fairness, understanding, and some modicum of justice will out. You know that likely won't happen because it doesn't always happen here at the courthouse. The ideal of how you'd like things to be rarely wins in this the land of twisted truth, greedy lawyers, justice for the entitled rich, white, powerful, and good-looking. You see her there, the one who has brought you here and you see contempt in her eyes, maybe a bit of fear too. She and her minions want to crush you and you don't quite know why. You hope it will turn out well, but you know better. And then it does. The judge says there is "no statutory basis" for her capricious restraining order against one you love. The judge also says "you all need to learn to get along." The order is shown to be the petty, mean, punitive -- maybe misogynistic -- act that you think it is. Praise be.