The courtroom emptied out and my client's hands wouldn't move

I'm in the courtroom again but the benches are all stacked against the wall like a gym after an assembly. My client's hands rest on the table, unnaturally still, and I keep trying to read something in them while the judge says 'proceed' — except the words aren't coming from the bench, they're buzzing out of the fluorescent lights. I wake before I find my own voice. It's been two weeks and the case is still sitting somewhere in the back of my throat.