.. apathy. Of all the fucking emotions available to me, that's the one I'd ended up with. That, and the thinnest, most frazzled thread of hope I could...envision.I used to care about justice. But years of pointless struggling had convinced me at last that there was no such thing, and that there never would be.Not if I was the only one interested.I used to care about truth. After eight years in D.C. I couldn't even be sure what that meant. I wasn't sure I'd ever known.Pontius Pilate is famously. Her eyebrows were dark thin lines followed by different shades blue all the way to her eyelashes. Her cheeks were painted a blush color and her lips a dark crimson. She wore a black top held over her shoulders with two thin straps with a small gold heart necklace between them. Her top started just above her nipples and ran down her smooth flat chest and stopped at the top of her blue denim skirt which just covered the top of her thighs. Her black thigh hi nylons started just below the skirt mid. More

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