Cole is working. He is packaging some goods into a carton, but I can't tell what they are.
After packaging them, he carries the goods and stores them in another section.
He is working hard; he hasn't noticed me. I don't like this. Why is he working here?
He looks different too—malnourished and exhausted. He is sweating heavily but refuses to take a break.
Others are working beside him; they are all working in silence.
As I continued watching him, Sandra drew closer to me.
"Do you want to leave?" She asked.
"No, I've found what I'm looking for; you can excuse me," I murmured.
"Oh really? Okay, I'll wait at the door. Please be careful; there are explosives here. Be careful not to run into any machines. Watch your step carefully."
"I will."
She turned and began to walk away, but a thought occurred to me, and I called her back.
"Wait," I caught her wrist. "I have a question for you."
"Yes? What do you want to know?"
