The Waiting Room

Outside the room a steady rain drip-drip-drip-drip... He, pacing to and fro up on his toes then back on his heels A dull pounding in the back of his head his tongue and palate dry Perspiration coating the crooks of his elbows the backs of his knees His breathing shallow coming in fits and starts punctuated by overloud hiccoughs A thrum-thrum-thrum in one ear a high pitched whistle in the other What's the jury doing, brother?... The rain-smeared windows reveal a downpour now Frigid slants, arrows into the ground