Chapter 6 – Mojave Morning

catcusThursday, 1:00 a.m., March 30th

The Mojave doesn’t care to keep its heat after the sun sets. As darkness wore on, the desert’s frigid grip tightened. I found some flat ground hidden from the road and kicked aside fractured shale to smooth a small plot. Without any grasses or moss, I laid my cloth sleeping bag on the cold rocks that pressed bone-on-bone against my hips and shoulders. Shivering turned me into a curled stiff ball, a prisoner of the unyielding night. Since I’d been drinking, I knew the alcohol would cause my body heat to dissipate even faster from my core to my skin, where it would traipse away in a pointless dance. I did take some comfort knowing my chattering teeth and shaking frame generated heat, and that the morning would offer light and warmth. But until then, time moved like a knotted snake.

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