The judge presiding over the courtroom massages his temples. He’s old. Old enough to have seen it all before, so the skin on his face moves easily under his fingertips. “The plaintiff will present their case,” he says with a nod to me. I stand, spilling paperwork from the table as I hurry to rise. “Your honour,” I begin. “The Arctic Monkeys have committed a terrible crime. Not a crime…
Sci-fi and fantasy author based in Brisbane, Australia.