Carlotta waited, her hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming.
It seemed as if nothing could exist in that blazing, screaming hell.
Wat's voice was shrill in the land, yelling, exhorting, screaming.
Behind him the milling, screaming crowd was huddling, as if for protection.
He was screaming and clutching at his throat, trying to loosen his collar.
All day ...