Satan left God and struck Job with terrible sores. Job was ulcers and scabs from head to foot. They itched and oozed so badly that he took a piece of broken pottery to scrape himself, then went and sat on a trash heap, among the ashes.
“Ah, God, listen to my prayer, my cry—open your ears. Don’t be callous; just look at these tears of mine. I’m a stranger here. I don’t know my way— a migrant like my whole family. Give me a break, cut me some slack before it’s too late and I’m out of here.”