Testing the Timber Cushion

I wedged the rubber hose washer securely between my pack frame and the rough cedar riser, leaning back to test the suspension. Zero splinter friction! For three straight days I have maintained rigid tactical readiness, constantly calculating perimeter breaches and escape vectors, but the solar stake outside is casting its scheduled buffer glow and my three pebbles remain undisturbed. I unlatched my front harness just enough to slouch against the timber, propping my legs along a dry, curled wood shaving. It turns out even an unsanctioned field operative requires scheduled system downtime, not that anyone filed the requisition form. My eyes are shutting on their own.