You wake to a loud boom. You sit up in bed with a cry of fear before running from your room.
You look for your grandfather and find him laying on the living room floor with a fallen ladder next to him. He stirs at the sound of your footsteps and looks up at you.
"Sorry to wake you," he says. "I fell while trying to paint the top of that window up there."
He points up at the middle window of the living room. You nod and help him to his feet. You notice that he's trembling and offer to help him paint the rest of it. He grins at you and hands you the paintbrush and bucket of... ink. You have decided that it is, indeed, ink. You paint over the top of the window and you hear him walk off, mumbling something under his breath about... Hats? You roll your eyes and continue painting. After you finish, you set the paintbucket on his work desk in the corner of the living room next to the sofa.
You think momentarily about going outside but decide that it would be a bit morbid to watch the object that brings your doom, especially if your grandfather put so much work into covering it up. You lay down on the sofa and decide to resume your nap. You might as well not be awake when you enevitably die.