The night air bit his nose as Ash stepped out onto the patio; he'd spent worse nights than this in the deserts. Ash zipped up the sub-zero sleeping bag and settled into the hammock. Night owls and bats were still out this time of year and they're combined symphony was the final step to his sleep concoction.
The mess hall wasn't as full this time of day. The food was dry by late afternoon but it was never very good anyway. Ash twirled spegettiini on his fork as two guys nearby chattered on about what they'd do when they get home.
The next day, drowsier than usual, Ash woke to a beam of light piercing his closed eyes. A reflection from the glass sliding door. That meant it was later in the morning than Ash card to admit.
Storyteller | Writer | Thinker | Consultant | Multipotentialite