Shadows on the wall

He laughed.
I tried to laugh along, my voice popping like corns in the oven.
It’s not funny, he shouted.
What is? I tried to justify.
What? he shouted.
It was pointless.
The smoke from the kerosene lamp was killing me. I was sure my nostrils were black like the furnace.
I stared at the shadows on the wall and smiled.
What’s funny? [...]

The Waiting

The corridor was filled with people, seemed like hundreds of them. They were whispering and signing to each other, afraid of their own voices. Afraid of the truth.