"Shame" by Allie King

All day Tanner sits in his little office going through his daily routine-reading the occasional law book, going over cases, taking phone calls, and worrying about which bills to pay today. Even when sick, he’s in every morning by 8:30, with coffee in hand. He takes an Advil or a swig of cough medicine to chase the sick away.
His brown hair is ruffled from running his hands through his hair, and his cobalt blue eyes are glassy from lack of sleep. He keeps his phone near, waiting to take on new cases. He wants to take on tons of cases, but he hates dealing with people he knows lie like a rug.

“Please help me.” The usually innocent clients plead through his voicemail.

“I’m innocent, I swear!” The ones he ignores.

Tanner sits across from his new clients, studying them closely. He can almost taste the anger in the air; like an aura around them. He closely watches their body language and how they react; they’d push and pull their anger, like a game of tug-of-war, within themselves. Hiding it briefly then raging once more.

 One slow afternoon, after spending days on a controversial case he almost didn’t accept, Tanner hears a knock on his door. At first, the knocks are calm and uncertain, but quickly, become bangs driven by anger.
Tanner opens the front door but, not quickly enough to please the six figures barging into his home. The tallest man hands over a clipboard of first and last names petitioning against the most recent case he’s taken on.

“How could you represent a pedophile?” The tallest man asks.

“Everyone has equal rights in this country, no matter WHO you are. You’re innocent until proven guilty,” Tanner says with creased brows.

The tallest man seems to understand.

“Just one chance I need, to prove all of you wrong,” Tanner says.