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Joy
up to speak and goes to the
stand. He doesn’t always do
this. Sometimes he gets up
and speaks from where he
is standing. When he sets to
walking, like now, we wait
for something decisive. As a
result, we are disappointed.
I don’t understand why he
is so insistent on Rédoine’s
past. Everyone knows that he
was no choirboy. Dealer, gang
leader, condemned for violent
acts, armed robbery, accused
of crimes and not charged
due to lack of evidence. I have
the feeling that the time he
spends returning to Rédoine
weakens his plea.
I see his lifemarching by while
he goes on and on: his law
school, his exams, his lawyer
friends, his dinners… I don’t
know why but I imagine him
in his pajamas. Where does
this image come to me from?
In the evening in his bed,
pajamas buttoned all the way
up. What woman would want
a guy like this?
Currently,heisspeakingabout
me, he says that I am a good
person. Always ready to do a
favor, to help out his friends.
Someone whom others can
count on, a positive person,
enthusiastic even. In that
instant, one of the jurors,
a rather young man with
a boring appearance, who
makes me think of a banker,
looks at me funnily; as if he’d
just noticed something or
hadn’t understood one of the
words my lawyer just said.
He speaks more about my
mom’s illness, of her death,
and the way I “took things
into my own hands”. This
expression bothers me. He
speaks about my courage and
that bothers me even more.
Often, when people speak of
courage, they are particularly
stupid, that’s a reflection I
have already made. I want
him to shut up. I don’t want
to make eye contact with the