The camp bed rocked every time I moved. Somewhere in the dark, someone crossed the room on their way to the toilet. A door opened, closed. Then another. Sleep came in fragments, never quite settling. Lying there, I was aware of how easily I could leave. How provisional my presence was. How different the night feels when you know it's temporary. Most of the people in the room were immigrants, though that wasn’t what unsettled me most. Earlier that evening, I had arrived at a