Stand by your beds, hands off rocks and on with socks, it’s time to go, slacker. That’ll force me from this prison of comfort. I need my drill sergeant back, he wouldn’t be letting me waste away in this place. Wish I could clear the cotton wool from my ears. Like the damn stuff’s alive, burrowing and chasing and… I gotta get it out. Wish I could move my hands, or get off this bed. Something’s going on out there. I can sense it.
Just a short one today as I’ve got to be up in… Just under five and a half hours. I think I’ve managed to convey something about the guys life. What do you think happened/is happening to my character?
The Idiot in Tin Foil