Apart from a single light, out of reach by the ridge of the roof, there was nothing else but the naked prisoners, crammed on the shelves like slaves i... the hold of a slave ship. All were naked. The air smelled of piss, shit, and body odor, but at least it was warmer than outside. When the door closed behind her, Iman said, "My name is Iman," We don't want to know. It doesn't do to make friends. It hurts too much to see a friend suffer and die." Could someone help me out of these restraints?". Roughly my age. Apparently in good health. Inviting mouth, with a welcoming smile and the white teeth of someone who eschewed coffee, tea, and tobacco. Not unattractive, but not stunning either. He smelled of a woodsy soap, rugged and pleasant. And he carried himself with a quiet confidence, a take-it-or-leave-it attitude that was more contented than arrogant. His hazel eyes held a mischievous sparkle, though, and when they caught mine, I fancied I saw a spark of recognition. And a question. More

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