Today I edited and re-posted the story of the dream I had in 2006 about a 12 year old who witnesses a suicide and acts irrationally out of fear of getting in trouble. The story does not read like a dream at all, and it did not feel like a dream when I was experiencing it. Usually dreams have something crazy inserted, something that just doesn’t make sense. Not this one. Somehow it was realistically scripted from beginning to end, and I was able to simply write an exact transcript as it had played out in my dream.
I wrote this in 2006, right in the middle of my five-year break from writing, and now it’s one of my favorite short-stories as it depicts the real human consequences of criminal justice and helps to give a feel for why I’m an anarchist.