215: Thursday morning (way in the hell early)
Jack's eyes popped open and he hit the light, for brief seconds having no clue where he was. That wasn't disturbing, especially as it wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence. What was disturbing was the lingering feel of strange shadowy dreams.
Pulling himself out of bed, he stretched, ignoring the vague feeling of unease. Pre-dawn light was filtering in the window, and he pulled on the shorts he'd found yesterday, grabbed a t-shirt, and laced up his shoes.
Best way to shake off a funk was to lose yourself in the body. Running was a reasonable alternative.
Pulling himself out of bed, he stretched, ignoring the vague feeling of unease. Pre-dawn light was filtering in the window, and he pulled on the shorts he'd found yesterday, grabbed a t-shirt, and laced up his shoes.
Best way to shake off a funk was to lose yourself in the body. Running was a reasonable alternative.