While I was standing in a room, a black attorney who worked in the prosecutor's office walked up to me and asked me a question. Apparently the black prosecutor had been talking with a defense attorney about a plea bargain agreement in a criminal case; that black prosecutor had written something down concerning the plea bargain. Now the defense attorney wanted to accept as an agreement what the black prosecutor had written down. The black prosecutor was now unsure whether he should let the defense attorney accept the offer; the black prosecutor asked me what I thought he should do. I asked him whether he had withdrawn the offer before the defense attorney had accepted it or whether the defense attorney had accepted the offer before it had been withdrawn. The black prosecutor was unsure.
I explained to him that he should be held to the same standards as the other prosecutors who worked around there. But as it turned out, he wasn't actually a prosecutor after all – he only worked in the prosecutor's office. I concluded that he shouldn't even be doing that work. He seemed to be upset by what I was telling him, but I continued speaking anyway.
I looked over to the other side of the room and saw Vickie there. Obviously she had seen me. I had earlier seen Vickie there in that place, which somewhat resembled a school. I didn't want to say anything to her; I was uncertain whether I should approach her.
I wasn't wearing my shoes, which were over by a wall. I walked over to them. They were gray, suede-like shoes. I began putting them on one at a time standing up. When I finished I was just about to walk out of the room without saying anything to Vickie, but then she walked toward me and stepped right up next to me.
She was wearing a white dress with some kind of print on it. She said something to me and I responded, "How you doing?"
I then simply put my arm around her shoulder and she put her arm around me. Although many people were scattered around the room, we just stood there with our arms around each other hugging each other. She said, "Great."
I hugged her and held onto her for about half a minute; it felt so good. I felt like kissing her, but I didn't. Vickie said, "What's happening from you?
I replied, "What's happening from you?"
She answered, "You."
I said, "Me?"
I felt good with Vickie, but I was still uneasy. I hadn't been working much lately on my dream books and it was bothering me. I needed to be concentrating more on my dream books. Vickie sensed my unease and said, "You'll help your own self."
That made me feel good, to know that Vickie had faith in me.
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