Sawdust biscuits

Bai Hao drifted unconscious in that darkness for a unknown period of time. *Ugh* why do I have such a horrible headache, I don't remember getting drunk yesterday? His mind frantically tried to wake itself up to remember what happened, however it felt like an old car engine, full of grime and dirt, making a grinding noise with every attempt to start. Any attempt to think about what happened or who he was brought a sharp pain shooting through is mind, the pain made thinking difficult and he quickly figured out that it was easier for him to stay in a state of unthinking, a mindless blank, a white sheet of paper. Slowly his mind drifted off in that peace.

Again a unknown but finite period of time passed before he drifted back into consciousness, his headache subsiding to a dull throbbing. Slowly awakening, squinting his eyes against the little light, he noticed he was laying down in a room. Where am I? I only remember walking home from the bus, a bright flash and then nothing. Looking around, he observed the simple stone room he was in. Simple and old furniture adorned the room, a small dresser at the end of his bed, a table and chair in front of a single small window, which covered in a type of heavy cloth blocked out most of the sun and a small side table with a burned out candle. It was quite clear that whomever stayed in this room was poor, extremely poor. Just looking at the furniture it felt like it would break apart. He was laying down in a small bed in the corner of the room, containing a small uncomfortable mattress and a blanket that looked to be patched up many times with different scraps of fabrics. Slowly sitting up he felt a sharp pain shooting through his stomach, looking down on his body he saw he was wearing a ordinary white robe, one of those that you would often see in historical movies, and on the right side of his stomach blood was seeping through the garment.

A quick check of his stomach area showed a wound that while looking quite ugly, was in his not so medical opinion not serious enough to warrant immediate attention. Currently he had more important things to worry about, with the top of the list being food. While he couldn't remember how he got here, he did know one thing for certain. And that was that he was starving. Shuffling around the room, weak from hunger and pain flaring up from his wound he reached the single dresser and searched desperately for anything that could fill his stomach. Tucked away in the corner he found a pouch containing something that looked like black biscuits and a few other miscellaneous items. A small nibble told him that while edible, the taste of the black biscuits was horrifying. He was about to put them back in the pouch however his stomach kindly reminded him that any food was better than no food at all. Slowly he chewed away at the biscuits, the taste like flour mixed with sawdust or sand. His stomach rejoicing at the food, slowly converting it to the energy he so desperately need.