I Had a Dream    
   
   My dream was set in the year 2025, five years after President Trump's upset defeat, and four years after totalitarians captured the White House and both chambers of congress.

   A man accosted me in a Walmart parking lot, demanding my wallet. A cop looked the other way. More brave in a dream than I might be in life, I asked him if he was a felon.

   Highly incensed with my disrespect, be blurted, "How dare you insinuate me? I may be a justice-involved person, buddy, but you need to address me with respectful language!" 

   "Oh, sorry ... you're behaving like a convict or something and..."

   "There you go again," he shouted, waving a knife. "I'm a person, pal! ... just a person convicted of ... I'm not saying." 

    "Well, I know you're a person and I'm only trying to get acquainted, since we just met, and all that. We're all equals here in Soviet America." 

   Withdrawing his knife from my throat, he said, quietly, "You see, I got nabbed for robbery, spousal abuse, DUI, selling drugs, human trafficking, fraud, money laundering, 2nd degree murder and gang related violence." 

   "At first, they let me off with warnings, then threats of prison time, until my big mistake."

   "What was that?"

   "I held up a Democratic congressman in DC, and now I'm a formerly incarcerated person." 

   "So," I said, "you were a prisoner, an inmate, after all." 

   The look on his face told me I needed to shower him with every respectful adjective in the book. After all, he had a knife, and the government took my gun.   

   Satisfied with my politically correct approval, the stranger departed, forgetting why he was there, and I awoke wondering how I lost my wallet in the dream.    

       Jimmy