The dry air, and stifling heat were oppressive inside the tent; which drooped in places and had warn holes in others. The burlap canvas stunk of dirt and age. The holes let light pierce through in laser like beams that reflected on the floating, constantly moving dust particles; showing off the freshness of the air breathed, chokingly, into the lungs of each inhabitant. At the moment, I was the only soul living within the shrinking mess, cluttered with rucks and other gear left behind by the rest of the platoon. It was miserable. I swallowed the pills given to me by the doctor; two Percocet, two Vicodin, and two flexural, washing my worries and pain away with the water that carried them down my parched throat.
Thus begins my journey into hiding from Saul and seeking rest.