Zachariah missed home. He did his best not to think about the Golden State, but on nights like these? Chilly nights where he had to wear a coat to keep warm? That’s when he really missed home. And for some reason, he decided to come with his homesickness by setting up a hammock outside between two small trees. It wasn’t too late in the evening, but it was dark enough for the stars to come out and the street lamps to light up the area enough to prevent true star-gazing.
But looking up at the blank sky was relaxing in its own way. He had forgotten his phone inside, so he was left with the sounds that you typically heard at night. Crickets, night birds, the occasionally creepy noise of unknown origin. Average stuff, really. He let one of his hands drift down to brush through the grass below him, the occasional creepy-crawly moving across his fingers or up his arm. He didn’t mind as long as they didn’t bite.
He shifted to bend one of his legs at the knee, then moving it from side-to-side so that the hammock would gently rock with his movement. His other hand was across his stomach, tapping along to the beat of a song that had popped into his head. “In touch with the ground, I’m on the hunt, I’m after you,” he spoke-sang along to the lyrics of the famous Duran Duran song, not caring about whether his voice was all that great or not. Who was around to hear him anyway?
Feeling something start crawling up his arm, he slowly brought his arm up so that he could see what it was. “Smell like I sound, I’m lost in a crowd, and I’m hungry like the – AHH!” he screamed, his voice more shrill than he would have ever wanted anyone to hear it, flinging his arm out quickly and violently, nearly tipping himself out of his hammock as he did so. “GET OFF!” he continued, directing his comments towards his arm.