"Move, move. Not a single one of you is to be left behind". He commanded with a rod in his hand.
Using that road, he paved the way for the tattered prisoners to get back into their cells one at a time.
The passageway is thin, barely fitting the number of prisoners at their disposal. Five of them are dumped in a cell and then have the iron bars of the cell closed in on them.
I and my cell mates were taken into our cell aggressively and then had the doors closed in on us.
The inside is damp. The cave cell where droplets from the muddy ceiling are a constant melody, and the hard ground is but the norms of a bed for the likes of us.
The source of light is from the crude flames burning atop the wood attached to the walls on each side. Without them, everything would have been pitch black.
I got inside the cell and found myself a position to sit in the corner of the room. It was a good time for me to think.
