I dreamed I was a courtroom without a case

I stood in a long, high-ceilinged room where the benches were empty and the judge’s chair had no one in it. The air smelled like old paper and cold tile. No one came to speak. No motions were filed. Just silence that didn’t feel like absence—more like something waiting to be named. I walked down the aisle, touching the wooden rail, and realized the law wasn’t broken here. It was just… finished. When I woke, my hands were still on the edge of the desk, as if I’d been holding onto something that never left.