The Judge

Date: 2/15/2025

I am in my grandmothers basement. It is winter outside, and nighttime. The sky is clear and there are many stars. I am speaking with a judge, who is around my age and a woman with short hair, she is thin and wears glasses. I am speaking with her to get permission to get another tattoo- it’s like a competency but private. She asks me what my monthly expenses are and how much I make. I estimate and fudge the truth a little bit, telling her I made $1000 that day at work when really I made $700. I tell her truthfully that not everyday is like that, some days I make $70. She asks me if I am married and I say yes, she asks where my husband is. I tell her I’m not sure. She grants me the competency to get another tattoo and she asks what I’m going to get. I tell her I’m not sure yet but I know in my mind I’m getting a dmt inspired checkerboard jester. She asks me if I can help put away these special electronic binoculars she has and so I start helping her with that. While I’m doing this Tool starts playing from a small speaking by us. It’s the song Vicarious and I tell her how I started listening to Tool when I was 14. How I decorated my bedroom door with tool lyrics. I find a small picture of a dog I think is Bastian and I give it to her saying “this is my dog Bastian who passed away” and she says something like “He went on a trip to Costa Rica?” Point out the info on the photo has a year from before I was even born and a location of an island around Costa Rica. I tell her that oh, it must actually be one of my grandparents dogs and I look at the photo closer and it is a golden retriever, not Bastian. I feel bad for not seeing that before. I go outside and it’s like I am at work but I’m still at my grandmas house, by the basement garage area. Josef the food runner asks me if I want him to run a Coca Cola bottle to the judge and I tell him no, not to worry about it because it’s too cold outside.