Simon's snores greet me when I rise, making me wonder how many times throughout my childhood he left me sleeping and returned to me sleeping, with me no wiser to my father's wander-bouts.
Part of me wants to shake him awake and ask him where he was tonight and beg him to say he had holed himself in the kitchen, writing new recipes for dishes he'll never have the ingredients to create. Another part wants to crawl under the covers and be five years old again. Then there's the other part that wants to yell and call him names and blame him for producing such a screw-up of a daughter.
Instead of doing any of the above, I traverse the pod as a drone, showering, dressing, eating, preparing for the long day ahead.
I hear a soft notification as I'm leaning against the door of the pod, shoving the latch into place. The message is brief.
[Incoming Message: HHP-MEDICT]
RETURN TO HHP LAB NEXT WEEK @ 0900
I acknowledge the grim appointment and carry on.
YOU ARE READING
ARC10
Science Fiction[Book 1 of the ARC10 Trilogy] **Winner of the 2017 Watty Storysmith award** The President created an underground safe-haven for the survivors of the alien invasion. He built it to save them all from total annihilation. He protects them, feeds them...
