”--””—Paul Masters had long lost any hope. He had stopped counting the days, they were all the same to him.The days started with the first day...ight, when the bright light of the local sun replaced the sporadic artificial lights of the slave pens and the cruel guards supervised the dispersion of the foul-tasting, lukewarm gruel served in simple earthware bowls.Once in awhile, other slave gangs exchanged the feces and urine soiled straw-like stuff that thinly covered the slave pen. “Shirt off. Socks, too. It’s only me, Aidan. Your mother. We’ve done this before. I want you stop being silly…”It was ridiculous but I reacted to the tone of her voice in a regressive response to authority. It was a like I was acting up in a scene from two decades before, my mother chastising me for some misdemeanour, the bark in her voice bringing about an immediate action as I hauled my tee-shirt over my head.“Those horrid jeans and underpants,” my mother continued after I’d pulled off my. More

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