By now, the sun was high and the day had become very warm.

The longer he lived, the worse each new day became for him.

When that day became night, it did not grow dark.

His day, he knew, had just become a great deal more complicated.

The shorter the days become, the more these natural changes will take place.

Instead the day became a tribute to a life cut short.

The day had become warm, and the sun made him feel stronger.

But in the nightmare the day had become, she could read his lips.

It wouldn't make the hell that the day had become go any more smoothly, but at least he would feel better.

The day became night and a frightening thunder was heard.