- Vol. 04
- Chapter 11
Just before the dawning, you crouch, hideout, settle in for a bit.
You're still warming to the idea of rising. There's a chill on the horizon, and a crimson
weariness cloaks your emergence. Not all daybreaks are sanguine, sometimes
they're bittersweet, even bloodshot. Beneath your broad-brimmed hat, you take
a few more winks. But soon, you'll awaken, stretch your rays, yawn in bursts of gold
and amber, throw your cobija and sombrero to the heavens, because you're el amanecer, and a star in your own light.