Judge Lamont’s eyes glided back & forth ‘tween the 2 weights, the hammer he held hanging in the air. Sweat drenched his face.
On the left was a smoothly gray robe so fluffy one could see the fluff; on the right was a pair o’ mahogany sandals with beach leaf patterns carved in the wood.
“Sir, you must pick in the next minute or you get nothing.”
Lamont’s hand shook for a second, & then pounded.
“Sandals it is.”
Lamont’s breathing was harsh on the train ride home. He could only hope his pet pillow likes sandals.