Sometimes it took days to deliberate on thirteen counts. Tom just looked at them calmly and said, "Just stick around. By the time you get somewhere to...do something the jury will be back. Mark my words. They'll take one vote on each count, write down the unanimous results on the sheet the judge provided, and they'll be out to send the bastard to hell once and for all."It was the assault and attempted murder on a police officer that was going to fry his little pussy ass, and Tom knew it, but it. His favorite part had been the bread. There were no weevils or rocks or dirt in it. Amazing, he thought, and he had munched down another piece. And now as he sat in front of the fire in the library, dressed in his modern frocks of what they called Jeans and a sweater, Cien brooded. He thought how he would feel knowing all of these modern conveniences and ease of doing things and was suddenly dropped in a time when they thought you a witch for thinking such things. It boggled his mind. Regan. More

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