A Hellish Vision

I am working in a dimly lit mine, swinging a pick to chip away lumps from the coalface in front of me. Perhaps because it is stiflingly hot, I am wearing only a loincloth, which may once have been white but has been stained a dark grey by ingrained coal dust. My skin isn't much cleaner, except where rivulets of my sweat have removed some of the less ground-in dirt. To either side I can see a line of other near-naked workers, both men and women, slaving away like I am. Overseers with whips ensure that nobody eases up or tries to escape.

1. The nightmareish vision continues.
2. I see Don, next to me in the line.
3. The vision fades. It has only lasted a minute or so, though it seems like a very long minute.
4. I am returned to the present when someone places a hand on my shoulder. "Some people are here for you," a monk says to me.

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