Every movement impulse sent from brain to body was measured, defensive. Being awake and outside at that hour had cracked the shell of security formed by months of carefully-monitored routine.

“Do you remember when we first started dating?” he had asked me. I had nodded, with a small smile on my lips before he finished his thought with a laugh. “I loved you more back then.”

For two weeks, I’ve noticed a beyond-handsome soldier waiting across the street from the stop two stops before mine. I’ve been trying to determine a casual way to meet him. On this morning, he smiles at me. Who am I to argue with fate?

I wait, masked as they wheel her out. Six feet away, also masked, a shrunken white thing. In clothes I've never seen before. I tell her my name. She repeats it, as a question.

I returned to the airport with my student after an instructional flight. The airfield had been VFR earlier; a cloud ceiling developed while airborne. A recall of solo students that were launched earlier had been initiated.