Lying on his back, he stared out the side window at the infinite stars. It was another cold and clear night. He watched over minutes then hours as the vapor from his exhalations gathered in the corners of the window. At a level beneath consciousness, he recalled his dream from the camp. At the level of his consciousness, he thought, staring out on those stars till the moisture of his breaths clouded that view, that he was but one miniscule creature at this tail end of a line of billions of such insignificant creatures.