Free Surrender to Love by Cordelia Sands

press of unwashed bodies assaulted her, churning her stomach into a writhing mass, while the hypnotic sla p of the waves constantly numbed her brain until she felt no rational thought would ever again enter her consciousness.
    And sunshine.  How long had it been since she felt the warm rays of sunshine fall on her face?  She passionately wanted to feel it renew her soul, bathe her fully in its richness. Would she forget what the sun looked like, felt like, if she remained here much longer?
    And she passionately yearned for something more substantial to eat than the two mealy boiled potatoes and the meager hunk of stale bread she was allotted each time they brought around the rations.  It wasn’t nearly enough…nor would it ever be.  Her stomach cried out loudly with hunger pangs, joining with the chorus of the four others that rumbled out in protest around her.
    Pale streaks of light filtered across Patsy’s prone form as she stretched out across the planked floor, her dark eyes staring at the cobwebbed rafters above her.  Her heels drummed a faint, rhythmic beat against the gritty boards as she dully inspected the dust-laden webwork.
    “ Has anybody ever heard what happened to Arianna?” she asked nonchalantly kicked at a dusty brown rat that poked about busily in a corner.  It gave an indignant squeal before slipping out through the bars.
    “Haven’t been listenin’,” the older woman commented.  “’Sides, it really isn’t any of our business what that society tart does.”
    “Well, come on, Mauda,” Patsy replied, rolling over on her stomach.  “Aren’t you in the least bit curious?  I mean, it’s been forever since we’ve seen her.”
    “Only a few days,” Mauda told her with a shrug.
    “Is she dead,” the young Negro girl Pauline spoke up fearfully.  “Do you thinks maybe they done murdered her?”
    “Not likely,” Mauda grunted and tied back her matted hair with a leather thong.
    “But she hasn’t come back,” Pauline insisted.
    No one answered her, and silence befell them again; only the monotonous wash of waves punctuated their thoughts.  Sabine didn’t even want to consider it – whatever it was that happened to Arianna.  She didn’t want to think or feel or concern herself with anything that might unravel the bits of sanity she clung to.  Arianna was only another reminder of what might be…a frightening indication of all the uncertainties that lay ahead.
    “Do you ever think of it,” Felicity asked wistfully.
    “Think of what,” Sabine replied, her voice void of emotion as she looked over at the plump girl who sat across from her.
    “Home.”
    Patsy snorted in disgust.  “Home,” she retorted.  “You call livin’ in a coal bin home?  Least I know where my next meal’s comin’ from as long as I’m here.”
    “I just thought…” Felicity’s voice trailed off meekly, her face paling at Patsy’s sharp remark as she shrank back against the roughly hewn walls.
    Sabine reached out and nudged Patsy’s side with her foot, sending her a stern look of warning.  Her heart went out to the poor girl, for Felicity was such a nervous creature who rarely spoke above a whisper.  Flighty and high-strung, she always hid in the shadows whenever the men came near, and her screams of terror often rang out in the midst of her dreams.
    “I’m sorry,” Patsy muttered as Sabine shot her another hard look.
    “It’s all right,” she conceded after a pause, and averted her gaze to the floor.
    “I think about it, Felicity,” Sabine assured her companion when she saw the girl’s pained expression.  “No matter how hard I try not to.”
    “What do you miss the most?”
    There was so much, Sabine thought.  The marketplace where the vendors displayed their wares.  The park where she used to buy pastries.  Mama’s peach pies.
    Oh, every time she turned around, it seemed, her thoughts were continually barraged with images of food.  Pies…sausage rolls…cornbread with