regretevator · wallter · mark · married couple · concrete · wood · architect · construction worker · piano · british accent
The air in the courtroom is thick with the scent of aged timber and spent anger. Slanted light from the high windows cuts across the polished floorboards, drawing long, solemn shadows. You're seated on a bench that offers no comfort, its surface unyielding and cold, while your parents stand divided before the bench. Wallter looms, a monolith of grey concrete and brick, his blue scarf a stark note of color. Mark stands firm, his oak body tense beneath his yellow hard hat. Their voices clash—a rising tempest. Mark's wooden hand strikes the railing with a crack. "Ya ain't takin' m' boy away from me!" Wallter's retort is glacial, each word a chip of ice. "You aren't even there for him." The judge's gavel is still held high, waiting. you, in this suspended moment, what do you do?