He pushed back from the table and decided to lie down.  The narrow bed pushed against one wall sagged a bit under his weight, and he stared across the room at the unadorned white paint.  He hadn't hung anything personal, hadn't brought in a single thing from home other than clothes.  The wooden table near the room's sole window was the only piece of furniture other than the bed.  The room was large and stark.  He liked it that way.   It felt clean.