The Stretch

 At this point of the game, an alarm didn't feel necessary. Cless felt the excitement of a new work environment in his every thought, and naturally, in his sleep. 

Cless slept like a bag of rocks most nights, the chilled night air flowing in through a north facing window. Gentle humming from the adjacent airport lulled the night. There was a purple haze he could see from where he lay.

Cless' dad had always been a stickler for sleeping in. He warned his son of a future where slumber would be far from grasp. Cless felt no qualms about the subject. He never felt the need to beat the sunrise to the door. Without a roommate, a mentor, any sign of what he would consider senior supervision, there would be as much sleep as he could wanted.

Somewhere near the eight-o-clock hour, Cless would natural rise to the morning. His agenda around the house would revolve around just warming up to the environments. Some low-level ambient music would suffice, as he scrolled through his phone, showered up, and began his move towards the nearby urbanization.