Don’t read the news at night

anthropology_bed72Last night I had a dream that I was tried by a military tribunal. In Syria.  That’s considering that I know very little about military tribunals and even less about Syria. In my dream, I came there for something else, like someone else’s trial, and I had a stash of candy in my drawer. I remember reminding myself to make sure to pack them back home. It was almost time to go.

We were standing in the middle of this square when they announce that it was my turn. For some reason, we already had a whole bunch of American lawyers on our team, and they all started to hustle around me, commiserating, as if I’d contracted malaria and they didn’t, even though they had a perfect chance.

One of them did volunteer to represent me. We both wore color-coordinated red sweaters.

Throughout the dream, there was this horrible noise that would come and go. While other people’s trials were going on, it was annoying but didn’t matter much. Now with me on the stand, it was a different story. The prosecutor started asking me questions, and I just plain couldn’t hear what she was saying. I know. It was a woman in uniform. In Syria. Don’t ask.

Then she started pointing at pictures and asking me more questions, growing agitated and practically yelling in my ear. And I still couldn’t hear enough to understand her. I knew my life depended on my responses and I didn’t even know what the questions were.

That’s when I felt this overwhelming sense of despair wash over me. I realized that with this horrible noise, there was no way I was going to get out of this and would be convicted by military tribunal and will perish in one of the scariest places on Earth. In my dream, I thought I was having a nightmare. That’s when I woke up and realized that I was.

The room was filled with a horrible noise. A neighbor using a leaf blower in his back yard.

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