What size is justice?

What size is justice?

Is it as big as the world?

Obviously not, going by stories we read every day.

Is it as big as a nation?

Major no’s there, right across the globe.

How about the size of a city?

Or a street?

Maybe a house?

Is it at least as big as a person?

The smallest child?

Asking to be heard, to give their version of events before we ground them?

Is it the size of seven letters? Just a word, with no meaning or depth?

Or is justice an ideal? The gigantic size of a dream that spreads and grows, takes wing and flies to where it is needed, becomes pillow soft, to rest a weary head upon?

I don’t know what size justice is.

Injustice, though, I saw and felt this morning in a post I read first thing. It stayed with me throughout the day. It coloured me orange and green.

There is a size equated to injustice in my mind right now.

66 inches of dinosaur in an orange dress and green cardi.