She looked up at me and smiled brightly, her face like an open book.The eye was terrible; the white dead eye. Her good eye was bright and healthy.She ...ould have been very pretty I thought to myself, if she’d had two eyes like the good one. And she was 10 or 20 years younger. With some color in her hair.The two of them chatted as I drove, they obviously had a lot of catching up to do. I wondered about how Ralph had introduced me to her, as a “friend”. Was that true? How could our relationship be. Bela knew the small window was level with the ground outside - she knew because water and mud poured down on her every time it rained. That she could tell how far below ground she lay only served to further depress her spirit.Bela coughed, and the walls coughed back at her, almost mocking.She had not seen her sons in days - or was it weeks? - and her last memory of their blank faces had been from beneath the sweaty guard who raped her in front of them. In fact, the only human contact she had. More

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