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Accused

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What is the best dream you’ve ever had? Recount it for us in all its ethereal glory. If no dream stands out in your memory, recount your worst nightmare. Leave no frightening detail out.

When my boss assigned to me the information about trials I was not thrilled at all. I had worked in culture and education and I liked it. Leave all that to begin to make reports about the world of delinquency didn’t appeal to me. But I had to do it.

Every monday I had to go to the court-house to check the notice board where they announced the trials for the week to decide which ones I would attend to make my reports. On the notice board appeared all the main data about the trials: the defendants with their names, the accusations against them, etc. I had attended a trial in which the defendant was obviously innocent and I was deeply impressed by his suffering, having his name tainted by the suspicion during the proceedings until the sentence pronounced him not guilty.

One night I dreamed I went to the court-house to check the notice board and I saw my name on the notices of three trials for the week. I was accused of robbery and as a drug dealer. I knew I was innocent. I felt a deep shame of being publicly accused of crimes I never did. I thought on my colleagues, the other journalists, who would see my name on the ominous notice board associated to such crimes and would have to write about me as a defendant, a criminal. I thought on my family. Their shame, their suffering. I felt fear.

I knew I needed an attorney, somebody who would explain to me how on earth I ended on the notice board without knowing nothing in advance, without being arrested by the police and charged, without knowing what exactly was against me. Only robbery and drug dealing. No information about what was robbed, to whom, when or what kind of drug dealing they were talking about. I felt completely lost, defenceless. Then I stumbled upon a friend of mine. A seasoned criminal attorney who used to solve all my questions. I asked him about my being summoned for three trials in one week to answer for crimes I knew nothing about, without any previous notice. He answered me happily: don’t worry: it sure is the new brief proceeding for quick trials! I woke up. Saved by the alarm clock.
Note: this was not the worst nightmare I ever had, but I remembered it because it felt so real and I had a lot of nightmares related to my job those years.

Daily Prompt: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This).
Dream posts by other bloggers on the next page:

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Journalist. In my fifties. I've worked for 26 years in a newspaper in Spain. I worked for two years as a stringer and correspondent in the US, and went as a special envoy to other places like the Balkans. Sea lover. Avid reader. Classic Music enthusiast.

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