Hands fall down as they try to work in the mills. Hardened, bruised hands are cut and blood drips on the cloth that she's producing.
She has to work there, if she doesn't she has to bear the slaps of her drunken, miserable husband. Her eyes used to dream of skyscrapers and cities. Now, she is stuck in a slum and an endless cycle of misery.
She dreams on of a life she never lived. She wants it so much that she runs away from this world. She finds sweet release as her body is burned.