She sat in the courthouse, waiting to pay off a traffic ticket, watching the nervous hustle around her.
Courthouses are strange places of emotional extremes: people shifting their weight nervously, crying tears of joy or rage or despair, hugging family members, attorneys. Quick, hushed conversations – supposedly privileged, but had out in the open – that can decide a family's fate for years to come. She felt impatient, but relieved that her task was mundane compared to the cacophony around her. In a few minutes she'd be done and on her merry way.