“If I could kill you, I would,” he said through the bars. “Like I killed Judah, who lived in this same cell for two years. We will see how long you last before the serpents come to sink their fangs into your tiny mind.” And then he’d gone. For a long time, Talya had stood alone, not sure what to do. The cell was cold and wet, the small patches of straw soggy. The only light came from a slow-burning torch down the passageway. There in the cell, all of the hope he’d found in his dream seemed far away. Unable to remain strong, he’d walked to a tiny dry patch in the corner, squatted to his heels, lowered his head, and wept. But none of his crying made the cell warmer. Or dried the ground. Or brought any comfort. Hours later he was still alone with no one to hear him. So finally he wiped his tears, sniffed his last, and curled up into a ball, praying for sleep so that he could dream again.
