Thirst built, my mouth as parched as the earth I trod. It was a thirst not slaked by the water I pumped, water strongly tainted by salt.
What did the girl use the water for? She must filter it if she drank it.
I maintained the rhythm, keening, my muscles in my arms and legs clenching in dull pain, each footfall an effort. And as fatigue washed through me, I steeled myself, in case I slipped and fell on the gravelly earth. I did not relish giving that guard another excuse to lash my back.
The girl looked content to wait. Maybe, like me, she had no choice. How old was she? Had her mother sent her? Did she have sisters? A brother? A sibling like me? But not like me – no, no – not a shameful outcast, a young man unable to control the deviant beast inside.
* * *
I resumed my seat at my pat
