“I’ll talk to you Sunday,” I said.

I hung up and slid the phone back into my pocket.

At nineteen hundred hours the barracks bunk room was empty.

Most of the unit was at the mess hall eating supper.

I walked back from the shower block with a towel slung over my shoulder.

The cold ceramic tile of the bathroom still chilled the soles of my feet through my shower sandals.

I sat on the edge of my thin mattress.