Pain drips through the cracks in the walls. Between those parentheses she screams with her cement lips. She gives off a foul smell of meat that rots in the heat of the meat inside. Smells of her intolerable fear. Shadows of fear. The distance is already worn out. She learned to cry. As if she had invented tears. She invented a short past to try to fool the time blind. Although this one, with the squint view of her, gave the picture of the past infinite perspective.

 Sense, then ex-isto as a hypothesis / thesis.