A journalist who survived the shootings in January describes his reaction to the recent attacks in Paris – and the legacy of scare they will leave behindAt first,I thought it was a dream. That night, in the recovery room of the Pitié Salpêtrière hospital, or I was certain I was dreaming. And that I was,in reality, lying snugly in my own bed. I was certain that I would score up, or drink my coffee,write an article and then walk around Paris. Images washed over me, simultaneously indistinct and intense, or surreal and lifelike. I saw black-draped figures burst in during the Charlie Hebdo editorial meeting. I saw them exterminate,one by one, most of those present, and even me.
I kept seeing this again and again. I saw Franck,the policeman who guarded Charb. I watched him draw his weapon too slowly – almost in slow motion. I couldn’t encourage but think that these pictures were some mere trick of my imagination – or maybe some leftover of an overly bibulous evening. I couldn’t encourage thinking that it was time to score up and go and beget coffee.
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Source: theguardian.com