OOM: The next chapter
His memories of last night are fuzzy, the way they can be when you're so tired you can hardly stand up. He'd dozed off a couple of times in the bath but that's his own fault, he'd been trying to relax muscles that have been taxed to breaking point. He remembers the wincing at deep burns on the skin of his hands and parts of his neck, where the rags he'd used to cover himself had been pulled away by movement and the sun had got in. It had hurt, but not enough to stop him falling asleep the second he'd got into bed.
He'd slept for about fifteen hours, it's afternoon when he wakes up. Turning over to check the time brings a hiss of pain at the stiffness in his muscles, but he's not going back to sleep. Too hungry and there's a definite need for more to drink. So he heads for another shower because he feels like he'll never get rid of the sand and dust, then he wanders - rather haltingly due to aches - downstairs in just a pair of jeans, to search for food and hopefully find Random.
Tired though he is, he's happy. It's quite a feeling to know that there'll be no aging for another five hundred years. Everything that had happened on Earth seems to take rather a backseat to that.