John opens one eye and squints blearily at the time on his phone. Two in the afternoon. He's only been in bed...three hours? What woke him?
He shakes his head a little more to clear it and looks at his phone again. New text from Mary. Strange...she usually avoids texting him during the day when she knows he is working that night. He opens it. A photo. Slightly out of focus, from an odd angle. Man with dark hair and dark eyes in a cotton button-up..no one john knows. Accidental photo and text then? Visual version of a pocket dial? John almost deletes it, but something makes him pause, then move his finger over the 'save' button instead. He doesn't know why, not on three hours of sleep, but something is bothering him.
His dreams are filled with gunfire and scorching sand.