When not entertaining America and the internet with hilariousness, I earn some scratch by working at a law office. Part of my responsibility is closing cases; taking old case files, boxing them up, and sending them to storage. After many complaints and at least two sit-down meetings, I have stopped shouting, “Case closed!” every time I put a folder into the box, though I mutter it under my breath. Every time.
When I close cases, I check to make sure the documents are all in order and that it’s actually done. I also rearrange everything so the papers face the same way and line up, not so much to preserve them in storage, but because I am mildly obsessive-compulsive. This is the point where I made an unusual discovery today, in the form of a letter written by an incarcerated client of ours. The letter was ordinary enough, but paper-clipped to the letter was a feather.
A feather! Somehow this guy serving 10-to-15 years in San Quentin had access to a really weird arts-and-crafts station. Or it’s like a Dumbo thing, and the feather will give his attorney the confidence to really BELIEVE he can overturn a felony conviction. Or he kept a bird, like Brooks from The Shawshank Redemption, and plucked it to really make his cursory thank-you letter stand out. I really hope he has a pet bird he’s concealing, and that it isn’t something like, the feather has been poisoned. Because I have been handling this feather a lot.
