From this volcanic cone, hell springs forth. Day and night. The devil blows acid gas on all these men of suffering. These sulphur hunters who crumble under the weight of the stones but never collapse. Dantesque life along this volcano, at the bottom of this crater from where they bring up their heavy sorrows again and again.

For a few coins, not even gold, and to survive their fate for one more day, one more week, one more month. For an existence of misery with no window on the future. Florence has crossed their path of the cross and continues in her mind to walk with them. We have already followed in her footsteps.

Kawah Ljen Island of Java