I’ve worked many years as reporter on courts. I got to know everything about criminals. I remember once I attended a trial against a man who was clearly innocent and was dragged to the courts by the false testimony of an evil woman and her daughter. She was the head of an organisation of smuggled immigrants. Fortunately his lawyer was able to expose evident inconsistencies between the testimonies of the two women and he was set free. I don’t know why, there were no charges against the two women. I remember I went home deeply impressed by that case, and that night I had a nightmare. In my dream the police arrested me and sent me to jail without telling me why. One, two, three, four, five heavy doors, had closed with a clang behind me. I was stripped of everything I had. Reduced to a number. If only I could be alone! But not. I had been thrown in a cell where another inmate was living. I’m used to live in the inner jail of my depression, I’m not scared of solitude. But being the whole time under the gaze of a stranger, when I was so scared and puzzled, was a torture. I looked up and saw two narrow windows with bars. The view: a concrete wall. I was trapped. The anguish was unbearable. I woke up in tears.