Light pervades each prison cell: a pleasant, warm light.
Sharp. Cutting light.
It must be day already?
The footsteps are heavy, shuffling.
The corridor is short, but we are walking for an agonizingly long time.
We're coming. First time doesn't feel so tangible. Is it just the middle or the beginning? Or is it near the end?
The consciousness expands, grows into new skin and constantly discards it. Deafening heartbeat in the steps.
We enter, very scared. I want to break out, but the first time has already passed.
Everything is passed in the forgotten minute.