7. Sunday, Bloody Sunday
For Ethan, Dawn was decidedly non-Homeric16 when she failed to fleck the eastern horizon with her red brush as much as it felt to him like she lifted her skirts to expose the new day. When he startled awake for the last time, he was hungry, dehydrated, and cold under damp bedding. Both Dan and Fantine were snoring. Sand from covering his ears with the foam pillow gritted between Ethan’s teeth. His eyes were swollen and his body itchy. Scabies. He tried desperately to recall what Fantine said about their capabilities but only managed to revive unwanted visions of Dan and Fantine’s nocturnal gymnastics. He closed his eyes and forced himself to recall the graceful eagles during the previous night’s sunset.
Something crashed about in the river to interrupt his medita
