We huddled together around the small mound of ruddy brown soil scooped harshly into a low hewn mound. It had been a week, we were no closer to understanding why we were still alive. Miraculously and mysteriously, we were. Every night the fungus returned, the small mushroom-like tendrils reaching upwards towards the cold, distant sun. Every night we collapsed with cold and exhaustion face down upon the ground, pleading for merciful release.