Tim's had a good day.  After he hit eighteen, his Maman let up on him taking solo hikes.  And what better way to celebrate his freedom than to go fishing?  He'd gone to Green River Reservoir, gotten a bass, and cooked it while the afternoon sun shone down on him.  Fresh coffee on a campfire, a fish he'd caught himself, and a couple of cookies he'd snuck out of the cabinet. What a good day.  It'll be a shame to move out.

This wasn't his first time at the park.  He'd hiked it before, with Maman to start with, and then a few friends.  She was always so worried that SoMeThInG cOuLd HaPpEn tO hIm, but let's face it: she was the one who'd insisted on him joining the Scouts back when he was ten!  She had learned to hunt with him, first with bows, then with shotguns, then with a single rifle they shared.  And a pistol, though that's really just for coyotes, or scaring a bear.  He'd been out in the wilderness his entire life because she thought it would be "quality bonding time" and he had a cell phone and a wristbreaker.  The only thing he wasn't prepared for was a psychopath.  A bear wouldn't be a problem, he had bear mace at his hip.  Wolves?  Smarter than to come near a human.  If he fell, well, he has a cell phone and two bars which is good enough to get 911.

All this pointless resentment is tiring.  Maybe just a little nap, it's still early.  Sunset's around nine, I should have three hours.  Set an alarm, water the fire, bury the fire once it's been watered, yawn, piss behind a tree while growing noticeably more drowsy.  Ugh.  Guess I shouldn't have stayed up so late after class.

Tim balls up his jacket on a bed of moss and flops.  Doesn't sleep, not all the way, but he dozes.  It's cozy.

The time is 3:41 PM.  The date is June 16, 2036.