17 AFTERMATH
2294 A.D. DAY TWO AT VAN Maanen’s Star
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I HAD A CONFUSING MOMENT, wondering why I was on my back. Wasn’t I still on the bridge? No, wait. It was too quiet for this to be the bridge. I risked opening my right eye, expecting to see the aftermath of a party of the type that leaves blank spots in the memories of all who attend. What I saw was the sleeping form of Sheila, a table lamp on its side illuminating the scene, and the slightly disdaining expression on the face of my canine companion Fido.
Opening the other eye, I saw that I was back at home, my pants were off, except that I had given up the effort before freeing the second leg. Sheila was fully clothed and had donned a pair of oversized Clown shoes with little bells on the toes. Part of what I had mistaken as
