Private Aluminum Bunk
Leaving prized currency abandoned inside cold aluminum overnight was out of the question. I shimmied feet-first through the soda can's oval pop-tab opening, sliding slickly down the curved interior wall. Down at the concave bottom, my scorched 1998 penny was waiting, lodged securely against the lower rim. The chilly night breeze tried whistling past the gravel outside, but inside this hollow cylinder, it was completely draft-free and dead quiet. I dragged the coin flat, propped my heels across Lincoln's charred profile, and crossed my arms against the curved silver ceiling. Superior insulation, zero wind, and a fortified metal cabin secured until sunrise.

