Trafika Europe 7 - Ukrainian Prayer

Charles Pépin

the court. The prosecutor observes everything from above like an old lion that we wait to see if he will move a paw. Not one paw moves but there is a question from the court. One of the two magistrates surrounding the judge addresses me. First, he clarifies that he wishes to leave the scene of the crime and to go back, if I would like, to the days leading up to the crime – the death of my mom, her funeral, the couple of days between the funeral and the crime. It annoys me a little that he asked, “If I would like” but either way, the answer is yes, I would like to. The judge approves and he carries on with the same courteous tone: - Mr. Solaro, on the days preceding the crime, you found yourself in the particular situation of being the master of ceremonies for

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The prosecutor officiates on the stand in front of me with his well-groomed hair. He had to have already had it that way when he was doing his studies. Now, he is 30 years older and 30 kilos heavier, but the hair remains. It’s the start of the afternoon, maybe he left an ample lunch and he is dozing a bit. Or else it’s a strategy, a way of really showing the overwhelming character that he is hearing so much about. But each time the judge asks him if he has any questions, he replies simply: “No questions.” I look at his red and black robe, his white scarf speckled with black and his self-righteous appearance and I tell myself that things are clear. My lawyer speaks from below; he is standing and raises his head towards

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