You are an astronaut. Describe your perfect day.
The smell of coffee filled my nostrils, waking me and yet taking me into a dream state. My wife would always make the first batch of coffee; rise early and grind the beans fresh. It was the only time throughout the day the coffee would taste the best. Made with love. As I open my eyes, I see the all too familiar white wall of my small one bedroom closet aboard the Lumineer.
The space craft had been in orbit for two hundred and sixty days and counting. One hundred and sixty days longer than it should have been and that was many more days without my wife’s coffee than I had expected or wanted to be. For all the days, confirmed and surprised spent, the smell of a delicious brew never woke me up before.
I’m filled with confusion, jump up out of the bed with distress and run out of the room with a heart full of hope. As I run through the hall, the large windows show me the dark, beautiful, calm and lonely sky but it looks different. My feet slam against the cold white tile, as I push my body, still groggy, toward the kitchen toward the smell; toward my wife.
A cold breeze caresses my face as I push the kitchen door open.
“Hello, hunnie. Coffee?”