Dawn came upon the town as Hayden slept in a heap upon his mattress. The tapping of raindrops against the bedroom window pane could be heard sounding out rhythmically in the quiet of the morning. With great difficulty Hayden managed to open one eye and then the other, releasing a yawn and burying his face back into the mattress. He felt no need to wake up.
Hayden could still taste the smoky flesh of the cooked trout caught between his teeth. He’d been walking for a few hours now along the roadside, shaping a stick from a young tree with a knife as he went. The stick was about two feet long and an inch in diameter. He thought it might come in handy later since the moisture in the wood made it a little more resistant to any fire.
Lying on his stomach, Hayden lifted his head up from his bunched up old sweater and yawned. Through crusty eyes, he looked around the old warehouse where he slept and noticed the dust particles floating through the beams of sunlight shining in through the windows. It had to be a nice day outside for there to be so much light.