Written May 11, 2017
I wandered downstairs and turned on
the tv, sat about a foot away from it
still half asleep on a break between
semesters my last year of highschool.
I thought of the new classes I would take
when I got back to school and the ones
I had finished for good and the fact
the heating must have been turned on a while ago
as I hadn’t needed to touch the thermostat.
I wondered if we would have any more snow
because by February I was normally ready
for something different and thought of how
strange it was to be at home on a Tuesday.
The Space Challenger lift was on TV
and I sat and watched as my mom was at the top
of the stairs putting away laundry.
I mentioned to her that the space shuttle launch was
on and she said, “Oh that’s right,” with interest in a way
when somebody remembers something that is happening
I was watching, not understanding the meaning when
there was the explosion, ‘It just …exploded,” I said, in awe,
not believing my own words or what I saw of the
orange flash and the long strands of cotton clouds.
Then there were footsteps running down the stairs.
by Wendy Stewart