The eyes belonged to the judge,
Though they belonged to him, they acted on their own,
While the judge listen to the prosecutor ramble on about the crime committed,
The eyes studied the man in the orange jumpsuit sitting before them.
Noting that orange was not his color at all,
Yes, he would look better in a jade or soft blue jumpsuit.
The man was nervous. Clearly.
The eyes could see his right foot bouncing on its ball in a swift motion.
Observing it was a steady one, beating with his heart, and when his heart quickened,
So did the bouncing.
The eyes looked to his hair, matted and shining,
Definitely not gel. He must be sweating.
Drifting to the arms, since the sleeves were rolled to the elbow, tattoos covered his left arm.
Prison tattoos, he must be right handed then. And this isn’t his first rodeo.
While studying the man, the eyes are trying to decide whether this man is guilty.
Or not.
At that moment the jury broke the eyes aloofness with the judge and they returned to him.
An acclamation echoed of the court walls.
Guilty.
The jury had spoken.