Dahlia woke up one morning with her palms burning. She tried to ignore the pain, and piled her hair upon her head as usual, trying very hard not to be late to Kratzin's Restaurant on West 47th Street. But her hair felt pointy, and soon there was a ring of pain around her head. Still, she struggled to get ready. As she clasped her bra in the back, her skin felt raw. Her shoes felt like they were two sizes too small. Her heart beat so hard it felt like it was bruising itself against her ribs. Still, she walked to work, amazed that she could feel so much pain so distinctly in so many different places. As she poured her first cup of coffee, blood trickled down her fingers into the cup.