I said, and my arms were crossed, but no one noticed, least of all my mother. She pretended to be engrossed in an old issue of People, her preoccupied little hum of acknowledgment clearly a brush-off. She passed me a crinkled Time magazine, with Hillary Clinton’s grinning face on the cover. Someone had put a pen through both her pupils and drawn on a detailed pair of devil horns, curved and ringed like a ram’s. The office was painted a pale green, minty like a hospital, and the carpet was the tightly woven taupe Berber mass-ordered from whoever had designed every waiting room I’d ever been in. Interconnected hard-backed beige chairs with foam seats that seemed unfairly uncomfortable lined the walls and formed an island down the center of the room, with small tables placed every few seats that were covered in outdated periodicals. The woman behind the tiny window that served as reception kept popping her chewing gum. I wanted to tell her to cut it out, but I resisted the urge. I had the overwhelming feeling this was going to be extremely unpleasant.
What do You think about Order In The Court (2016)?
