"Papa! Wake up!"
A hand gripped my shoulder and shook me gently. I pulled away and felt cold air on the back of my neck as the blanket slid away. I snatched it back and snuggled against it, burrowing for warmth. I reached for Bethesda, but found only a warm vacancy where she should have been.
"Really, Papa, you'd better wake up." Eco shook me again, not quite so gently.
"Yes, husband," said Bethesda. "Get up!"
What sleep is as deep as the sleep of a cold Januarius night, when the sky is a blanket of lowering clouds