Court Clerk Test 50
5 min45 WPM required283 words
Click on the passage and start typing to begin.
Follow a courthouse through one ordinary day and the clerk's office appears everywhere, usually just out of frame. The building opens and the queue at the counter forms immediately: a woman filing an answer on the last permitted day, a contractor seeking certified copies of a judgment, a young couple with identification in hand for a marriage license. Upstairs the arraignment clerk is already seated, calendar loaded, as deputies bring in the weekend's arrests. The e-filing queue from overnight holds sixty documents, and two deputies work through it, accepting, docketing, bouncing the motion filed into the wrong county with a polite, precise rejection notice. Mid morning, a jury panel checks in for a civil trial, badges scanned, and the courtroom clerk swears the panel; in family court a temporary protective order signed at nine is certified and transmitted to the sheriff by twenty past. Lunch does not really happen. The afternoon brings a verdict, the clerk reads it, polls the jury at defense request, and enters judgment before the parties clear the room; a probate deputy calms a widow through a small estate affidavit; the finance office balances yesterday's deposits to the penny and investigates a forty cent variance until it surrenders. At four, a lawyer calls about a transcript deadline and the appeals clerk confirms the record shipped Tuesday. By five, the docket shows four hundred new entries, each one someone's marriage, debt, custody, guilt, innocence, or fresh start, recorded exactly by people whose names appear nowhere in the papers. The courthouse runs on argument and judgment, but it moves on entry and record, and the people who type the record went home on time only because they never stopped all day.