Night shift on the northern border wall. The spot lights only manage to illuminate small patches of the vast snowy forest up ahead. I do my best not to fall asleep as my eyes chase the lights panning across the tree line, over and over and over again.

Why are we even here? It's nothing but icy, uninhabited wasteland out there. In the first place, who even thought to build a wall here?

I can faintly hear the ruckus that the day shift is making as they play cards down at the quarters below my post. If they're not gonna sleep they should at least get me something warm to drink.
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