She rises from a bed that is always a bed, makes coffee that is always coffee. The kitchen table is always the same table. The trees outside change with the seasons but are always the same trees, captive to an unending photosynthetic process, their flowers brilliant reruns of previous summers.
She runs the shower hot, steam covering the mirror and obscuring the flash of metal at her temples. The implants are decommissioned but removal is considered too risky.
Her therapist thinks that she is doing well adjusting to permanent residency in the real world. Drinking coffee that is always coffee.
A. P. Howell’s jobs have spanned the alphabet from archivist to webmaster and she has a master’s degree in history. She lives with her spouse and their two kids. Her stories have recently appeared in Underland Arcana, The Antihumanist, and Los Suelos, CA. Her website is aphowell.com and she tweets @APHowell.