Khalil Ravana woke to hot, cramped, noisy darkness. As the day’s stupor faded, he became aware of pressure confining him from every direction of his arms pinned tightly to his sidee legs bent, frozen, and unfeeling of his neck forced down toward his chest of toes and twisted hands supporting the weight of his body of the friction of bare skin on some rough substance – of a hard, unyielding knob thrust uncomfortably againts his chin. Outside the tiny prison, he could hear thumps and thuds, muffled voice, and a gentle creaking sound.[download]
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