ARAKI slowly brought himself from the black mists of unconsciousness to the cold grayness of reality. The rough, cold stones of the floor of the cell scratched his young body as he tried to rise. He strained to sit up, but the biting of the ropes cut into his flesh and made him bite his mouth to keep from crying...
Sketch: Vol. 18
, Article 7.
Available at: https://lib.dr.iastate.edu/sketch/vol18/iss1/7