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fantastic plans, when the longing for that damned omelette struck again. My whole body shook with pain, and the hunger bored into me. My forehead was burning with fever. The pain was strange, as if something was eating away at me from within. The cool breeze that came up again stung my feet, and my spirits fell. The hell with being famous, with getting rich. I didn't want to be a hero, I just wanted out of there. If only they would come tomorrow.

The sun was setting, and I braced myself for another long night of pain. I considered crawling over for the poncho, but it seemed so far away. I tried to make myself comfortable. My bones stuck out all over and scraped against the hard wooden planks. Then I got a terrible pain in my stomach. I hadn't had a bowel movement for the past ten days, and the pain pierced my gut. I rolled down off the bed and crawled on my knees, holding my feet as high off the ground as I could. I sat on a fallen log and tried to empty my bowels, but I was constipated. My attempts caused a strain on the rectum, and the deep cut, which had healed over, opened up again, and I started bleeding. I tried to stop the bleeding with my fingers, and that stimulation helped me to gradually empty my intestines of waste, which was dark green, almost black, and rock hard. I crawled back to my pallet and lay down in relief.

The sunlight faded, and dusk began to envelop me when I became aware of a distant drone.