by Simon Kaeppeli
Herbert groaned and wrapped his faded purple bathrobe around his slumped shoulders. On the way out, he grabbed a shabby fedora – unmistakable lawyer attire, although long out of fashion.
When he’d agreed to do pro bono work for the Sorcerers of Law Association, he imagined defending the weak, reforming the system, and maybe, just maybe, getting an honorable mention in the quarterly newsletter.
Instead, he spent evenings in seedy bars, bombarded by wild tales and literal curses. He still had a large, cursed wart on his forehead that occasionally complained about the weather.
With a grunt, Herbert sat down in the grimy highway diner. He attempted to order a baked potato with gluten-free bread, but one look from the waiter made him settle for hash browns and toast.
After half an hour, his client finally strutted in. She hopped into the booth, dusted off her beak, and immediately launched into a rant – peppered heavily with words like ‘discrimination’, ‘conspiracy’, and ‘flight-incapacitated’.
Herbert nodded while flipping through the court papers.
“So,” he began, “you’ve been convicted of misuse of treasure spells, broom-speeding, and public potion abuse. Your sentence to spend a year as a chicken was recently extended by two months.”
He glanced at the chicken across the table.
“And now you’ve been arrested again. Jaywalking. Considering the location of this diner, I can’t help but assume you have done it yet again on your way here.”
He folded his hands. “Ms Porter, why did you cross the road?”
She didn’t flinch. “Because the Department of Magical Transportation still won’t reissue my broom license. And the sidewalk was hexed.”
Herbert raised an eyebrow. “So, your defense is bureaucratic incompetence and poor urban planning?”
She nodded solemnly. “Exactly.”
He sighed. “Fantastic. We’ll plead entrapment by infrastructure.”
The wart chuckled.
He stood, adjusting his robe. “Let the record show: she crossed the road because every other option was cursed, revoked, or on fire.”
Ms Porter clucked proudly. “That’s the most accurate legal summary I’ve ever heard.”
Herbert shook his head. “I should’ve gone into necromancy. At least the clients stay put.”
Simon Kaeppeli is a scientist, educator, editor, and writer. His work was published in Star*Line, Better Than Starbucks, miniMAG, 50-Word Stories, Discretionary Love, Down in the Dirt, and Carmina Magazine, among others.