Jury Duty
Last week Anne came into the house in a hurry with something on her mind. She had been down at the road getting the mail. “Guess what?” she said, “You have been called for jury duty.”
“ME?” I screamed. “But I'm ninety-five years old… Yes, I would love to serve on a jury. Say! You know I COULD do it. There is an elevator at the back of the courthouse. I could take it to the second floor, wheel myself down the corridor to the court room at the front of the building and sit comfortably in my wheelchair at the jury box. I would be fulfilling my civic duty.”
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