PAIN CAGES

...the blindfold slips a fraction.

I can see a little through my right eye; there isn't a lot of light, but I see metal bars in front of me, all around me. A glimpse of the cages on either side: a man, no more than forty, cowering in the corner of his. A woman--the one who'd told me I'd get myself killed--is transfixed by something right in front of her, tears tracking down her cheeks.

I follow her gaze and wish I hadn't...