Marking School

I spent the day confined with several other prisoners in an airless, windowless room with harsh neon lighting. The doors were locked, and none of us could enter or leave until our task was completed and we were given permission to leave the building. Cups of tepid coffee were passed to us through a hatch, and occasionally we were thrown a biscuit to avert further unrest.

What happens in lockdown, stays in lockdown. But most of them passed.