?Mavli?
AS THE DAY PROGRESSES, the heat of the Torrid Season becomes more apparent. And the stench of our unwashed bodies becomes more unbearable. My nose burns and itches at the smell. What have we done to deserve this?
The naked girl in the cage beside mine is still eating rigidly and staring at nothing ahead. Her slender fingers grab the bars of the wooden cage tightly. I wonder how she manages to sit with perfect posture when we are in so much pain.
Swarm of flies buzz enthusiastically around us and a generous number of them hover around the scarred boy's face. He doesn't make any move to chase them away but sits perfectly still, almost unnaturally.
Sweat runs down my face and body and my underarms are damp and clammy. My throat is parched and there is no saliva in my mouth. The he
