The utter cold numbs the pain.
Must have slept in 5 minutes sessions.
Longest night of my life.
Most painful one too.
The blanket froze.
Guards locked up the bed when it was still dark out.
There is a tad of daylight behind the window well.
At least I can roughly guess the time of day.
Doesn’t really matter much.
Two slices of old bread with lard.
I’m frozen and exhausted and bruised.
The wood board stool is hard.
But at least I can rest my head on the table board.
There hasn’t been any sound in the catacombs all night or during the day.
I’m not looking forward to next night.
Just hope to faint into longer sleep cycles by exhaustion.
The blanket isn’t drying, nor are my clothes nor are the walls and floor.
Scratch marks on the wall below the window well.
Can’t detect any meaning in them.
Boredom or desperation?