My White Gloves

Dec 04 2013

To guard defendant a Ms. Jane Jones. As at the dock the defendant surrounded with her counsel and I’m looking on at her as it pleases me to do so. A very well presented lady in her middle years, an attractive woman and probably a murderer. Women like that knows how to get others to do something without raising a finger.

Chief Justice Honourable Judge J. Smith examining an evidence holding up in front of his face. In plastic a pair of white gloves and peering in at it. Same as the defendant wears today or does she just have very white fingers but there are no nails so must be very smooth gloves. These gloves in evidence the defendant killed with and seen with blood all over those gloves and they got taken by an officer. Today without no blood on them, they’re new looking. The judge is in a puzzle. Without being tampered with between confiscation and the lab the blood went clean off. Without tampering. No blood under lab inspection. But the same gloves as so carefully taken away at the scene but without no blood on them.

“Ms. Jones,” says the judge, “Please kindly remove the gloves that you are now wearing.” Jane Jones happy to oblige and she begins to pull the gloves off her fingers one at a time first one and now another. There is hush in the room and everyone is looking at her. She’s a lady to draw attention, just something about her, she looks like a picture sitting there surrounded by her counsel. She looks like a picture of a woman with angels about her for some reason, like as though she’s on a stage with a light on her and everything is make believe. He has the gloves passed up to him.

He’s looking at the gloves and he’s probably thinking they’re the same gloves because they look exactly the same. “These white gloves,” he begins to say, and she interrupts. “My White Gloves,” she says. And he begins again, “These white gloves,” but she interrupts again. “My White Gloves,” she repeats, “My White Gloves. ‘My’, Your Honour,” as though correcting him, but then now she looks down as though she got ashamed. “My White Gloves,” says the Judge, and looks surprised at himself, “Can you please pass me My White Gloves that you are wearing.” He’s right, she’s wearing another pair of gloves. She peels them off and they get passed up to him. He passes the other pair he was holding along to his assistant and starts comparing the new pair of gloves to the gloves in the plastic. Now he notices that she still has gloves on, and he asks her again, and it all happens again, and again, and somehow the new pairs of gloves are getting passed all around the room, so that before I know it I’ve got a pair of gloves too.

Others are touching their gloves and I’m touching My Gloves too so strange. And now a funny thing is happening as we’re all touching these gloves the judge has been left with the gloves in evidence and he’s taken them out of the plastic and he’s turning them over in his hands as we’re all doing. And now a funny thing’s happening as though a trick’s done, the judge puts on the gloves, and I put on My White Gloves too. We all put on Our White Gloves. They feel soft and hard both at once like snow if snow was warm but we all know snow’s freezing cold and what we all know now is that the gloves like snow and truth are pure.

Now the judge begins to clap, and we all the rest of us start clapping too. Some of us stand and now all of us stand and we applaud. The Lady Jane Jones has got a happy smile on her face and it looks like the sun came out over all that White. We stand and applaud a muffled thunder. “Case Dismissed,” says Honourable Smith, and we all cheer.

One response so far

  1. Keep going, it’s alright, it’s good, If you want to send it to a mag just take out the bits where you’re word playing so the sub doesn’t think you’re a nut etc…

    I enjoyed the read, nice style

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