John rolled out of bed like every other day. He sat up, stretching his arms overhead and looked at his alarm clock, shielding his eyes away the blinding sunlight. He groaned, driving the heels of his palms into his weary eyes. It was nearly noon, which meant yet another morning slept away, filled with ear splitting explosions and soldiers dying in his arms.
THAT IS NOT FAIR AT ALL.
MADAM JOSEPHINE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
WHAT, WHAT, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?