The judge Jam smeared and restless, the judge banged his gavel.  “Order! Order in the court!”  The agitated spectators filling the pews on either side of the aisle fell quiet. A few more bangs of the gavel because the judge liked the sharp noise. Time to bring out the accused. The courtroom was brilliant white. The walls and ceiling were the white of ivory chess pieces and gossamer angel wings. But the white of the judges glorious high chair was dirtied, tagged with sticky strawberry residue, cookie crumbles, and streaks of crayon. He pawed with pudgy fingers through a container of cheerios. He wanted every eye in the room to be on him. Wanted the air to be so fraught with anticipation they would all get headaches from the strain of it. He crammed too many cheerios into his mouth and some fell  into his bib, lodged in the fleshy crevices of his skin, or stuck to the coagulated jam on his arms. When the quiet reached its most absolute he said, “Bring in the …

Shadows of deep crimson enveloped the landscape, like a blanket of thin fog. All was mostly visible, but the only thing that one could truly see was the neon and faint aura of a single lonely building. A sign flickered just off of the russet-coloured road on which he stood, which simply read “DINER” in glowing yellow-orange letters. How he had gotten here, he did not remember, but off in the distance on each end of the road rested a low mountain, in which a dark tunnel’s mouth opened, leading to places unknown. There was no traffic. No vehicles of any kind. There was no parking lot around the diner either, merely an empty road, not newly paved, but there was no wear either–simply in an awkward state of inbetween. The sky around grows ever darker as he looks towards its mahogany peak directly above, starting at a faint glowing red on the horizon. The diner seemed increasingly more alluring each second, and gradually he began to amble nearer, the drone of the lights growing …