Sarah walked into the kitchen and
paused. Wasn’t I just…? She looked
around, trying to think back to what she had just been doing. I was upstairs,
wasn’t I? I was thinking about getting coffee after I showered.
She looked down. She was dressed.
Her hair was dry, but she hadn’t been planning to wash it. She sighed, and
began to make her coffee. The ritual was soothing. Water in the pot, grounds in
the filter, cinnamon in the grounds. Mug ready. Too much water. Did I put it in twice?
Driving, enjoying the sunshine
with the windows down. The summer heat is cooling off. None of the songs on the
radio are familiar. Even the DJs have changed. She fishes out her phone and
plugs it in, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel to her favorite dance
mix. Wait, where am I? I was supposed to
go the other way…
She adjusts her earpiece,
listening to the pre-flight chatter. Looking up, she’s already strapped in to
the cockpit. She looks down at her flight suit. When did I…?
The cat purrs. Sarah rolls on her
side and pulls the covers up over her chin. She pushes her head back on the
pillow against the big orange tom sprawled across it. He licks her forehead
once, twice. “Hi big boy. Um, you’re not supposed to be here. You disappeared
ten years ago, when I still lived in Utah.” She doesn’t open her eyes as she
reaches up and digs her fingers into his thick fur. He purrs louder.
The launch pushes her hard, back in her seat. She glances over
to Sutton, flicking switches and continuing the back and forth with Houston.
It’s always Houston. Even when it’s Alexandria, Virginia. “Rocket three
breakaway on three, two, one…”
Sarah studies the controls under
her own gloved hands. Where’s my coffee?
“What’s that?” Sutton asks over
the intercom.
Sarah shakes her head. “Nothing. I
think I left my coffee somewhere.”
He barks, a short laugh. “Yeah, I
hate that. Roger, Houston. All systems go. We are in orbit. Seventy-two minutes
until trans-orbit burn.”
“...confirm trans-orbit burn
complete,” Sutton says and pops the latch on his harness. He rises out of his
seat in the zero gravity. “Come on, captain. Let’s go grab some lunch.”
Sarah lies in bed, feeling the
weight next her. Is it the old tom again? A warm hand reaches over and pulls
her sideways, tucking her against a hard body. Not the tom. The hand rests on
her belly, and she looks down. It’s round and firm. She feels a kick. She
closes her eyes tight and wonders for the millionth time, “What is the dream?”
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Dogs in house
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Houdini, Eggs
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Time writing:
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~35 minutes
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September word
count:
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10,222
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