"Your Honor, I'd like to call Herman Lords to the stand."
Herman Lords stood up, but kept his head down as he walked to the witness stand. He was balding at the crown, though quite early, as he was only 26 years old.
The movement of his generous stomach alternately concealed and revealed his belt buckle as he walked.
He sat down, put his hand on the bible, and swore an oath, all without diverting his gaze from his shoes.
"Mr. Lords, quite frankly, do you know why you murdered those people at the park?"
Mr. Lords, still giving close attention to the shine of his Oxford shoes, took a long time to answer.
"That weren't me. They did it to themselves. They looked at me. In the eye, you know?" he answered, "I'm never supposed to look at someone in the eye, that's how I was raised"
Mr. Lords picked his head up slightly, looking at other people's shoes now. He eventually found black, plain shoes with matching black laces.
He slowly looked up, from black shoe to tan pant leg, from tan pant leg to tan woven shirt, up from the word "BAILIFF" and straight into a man's eyes.
"Mama told me I tend to bring the worst out in people," Mr. Lords almost smiled as he finished his testimony.
The Bailiff quietly loosed his sidearm.