I slide my feet into my sandals, tuck my wet head into the knitted rainbow hat sitting in the laundry basket by the door. My flannel pajamas stick to my dry skin. I reach for the blue vest that has become a staple in my wardrobe since acquiescing it in New Hampshire. Orion wanders up and I catch his collar with the leash, also found in the laundry basket--positioned next to the karate belt, a good substitute if there is a midnight outdoor run.
"Come on sweetie, let's do one more pee break."
I push open the door and the night air hits me in a woosh. My breath puffs out in front of me. Orion tentatively steps across the frosting grass, his feet sounding like footfalls on dry leaves. Crunch. Crunch. We walk down the sidewalk to where it ends and mosie onto the grass. I look up and see Orion's belt shinning strong in the night sky.
"There you are Orion--your namesake."
A plan cuts across the hunter of the night sky and I watch my breath curl in front of me. The horizon is purple and orange with the lights from the city. I am thinking of a card my friend wrote me about how the stars make one dream. What are my dreams now? I wonder. For so long I have felt the investment in such became such a precarious balance, better first to be sure of my footing again.
"Come on Orion. Inside we go."