Midas found himself kneeling on the hard-packed earth, surrounded by a circle of old wrinkly men whose skin seemed to have been sunburned by one too many southern summers.
Their weathered faces were etched with lines of age and wisdom and at this time, Midas saw some more lines on there that were not caused by the passage of time, but by their mental states.
They were frowning.
Some regarded him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity while others regarded him with disdain and frustration.
Midas saw all this and understood nothing and everything at the same time.
He understood nothing because he had gotten arrested as a kid who had not done anything to anyone, not even endangering any person and doing things under adult supervision.
He had set up the situation completely safely. And yet here he was.
He understood everything because they had brought him here under suspicion of witchcraft!
Witchcraft? Really?!