Living it up

Ivanka scrolled through her phone, her eyes skimming the screen without really taking anything in. She was too tired to focus, even if she didn't want to admit it. With a heavy sigh, she turned over in bed, cocooning herself in the blanket she'd brought from home. There was no way she was using the scratchy, questionable linens that came with the hotel room. She couldn't even bring herself to sleep on the mattress, so she’d laid out her own blow-up mattress on top of it. It helped a little, but not much. The rest of the room was too awful to ignore—the musty, damp smell, mold creeping up the walls, and the relentless leaks. She and Chris had set out buckets to catch the dripping water, but they had to empty them every few hours. They’d been taking turns, a dreadful task in a dreadful room.

But the worst part? The trains. Every once in a while, a train would roar by, shaking the entire foundation of the building and scaring the living daylights out of her. The noise was deafening, rattling her bones and fraying her nerves. No wonder sleep felt impossible, even though she was utterly exhausted. At least scrolling through job ads on her phone was something to do, even if she was barely paying attention. Her brain was too fried to do more than add a few listings to her favorites, promising herself she'd look at them in more detail later.

“I miss our tent,” Chris’s voice cut through the haze in her mind like a knife. Ivanka sighed, rolling onto her back and setting her phone aside, its blue light fading as she turned it off. Chris continued, mumbling that at least this place was somewhat dry, which made her snort softly. “Easier said than done,” she muttered. Ivanka sat up, yawning as she glanced over at Chris, sprawled out on the floor near her. His breathing was deep and steady, already half asleep despite the chaos around them.

“When we go into town tomorrow, we should buy a new tent,” she declared. “Maybe even one each. I don’t really trust you with mine again after you lost the last one.” Chris grumbled something incoherent, but Ivanka pressed on, her mind already planning. “And this time, we need those strong, sturdy hooks to secure the tent properly. I’m not going through another night of chasing after it when the wind picks up.”