The Blue House. Graham Templeton

I'm leaving the court house, now. There are people all around, lights flashing, things like that. It's strange. With everything that's happened in the last few weeks, all I can think about is how newspaper cameras still have flashes that could blind you from a hundred yards. That's all I can think of, along with thinking about how that's all I can think of. I feel a bit light-headed, like I'm drunk. There's someone behind me, pushing me through the crowd and down the cement steps. I can barely keep my balance.…