I'd fallen asleep when the sun was bleeding out and by the time I woke up the sky had scabbed over. I began to pick at it, starting with the edges. Unpleasant work, and I really just wanted to go back to sleep, but I had no choice on that. Black pieces of dried blood, still moist on the underside, came off and lodged under my fingernails. I kept at it. So tired that I had to close my eyes, but kept working by feel, by smell. Dozed off, I suppose, and felt warmth on my face, opened my eyes to a timid sun peering over the edge of the world at me.