Marinek’s place has exactly as much space as one person needs. It’s orderly, clean, and warm with few things left out on surfaces.

The unit is decorated in a style popular to Wrenis about 20 years prior. The floor is wood with large rugs covering much of it. The walls are a deep green that seems to shift with the light. Some plants sit on the floor by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Copper pipes rattle gently in the corners. I smile, settling into the simple elegance.

“What’s got you so pleased?”

“This place just feels like you,” I say without turning to look at Marinek. “It’s nice.”

“Good. It should, given that I live here.” I can hear the pride in their voice and my smile tugs a bit wider.

Marinek points me towards the couch: a long, stiff one with a blanket over one arm. She throws me a pillow from her room.

“Thanks.”

“Get some sleep. I’ll try not to wake you when I’m leaving tomorrow—well, this morning.”

“Thanks.”

They squint at me for a second. “Like I said, no biggie.” She squints a bit longer. “You okay to sleep now? I can stay up with you for a bit longer.”

“No need,” I say, biting back another ‘Thanks.’ “Just tired.”

They nod. “Then I’ll see you when I’m back. It’ll probably be towards the evening.”

“Sleep well.” I smile and it’s convincing enough for her to go back to the bedroom and shut the door.

I let out a slow breath.

The next few minutes are spent unfolding the blanket and figuring out which side of the couch I want my head to face. Eventually, I lay down and stare at the ceiling, counting my breaths. Sleep envelops me and I welcome its embrace.

I wake up to noises from someone moving quietly around me. My heart pounds and I try to keep my body still, to keep my breathing even, to keep hidden that I am awake. And then I remember where I am.

I unclench my firsts and flex my fingers in time with my breath.

The door opens and clicks shut. Marinek has left for work. I let out a sigh and roll over, chasing after the tendrils of lost sleep.

I wake up quite some time later. I stretch my sleep-stiff self and wobble over to Marinek’s kitchen to ransack their cupboards. I assemble a passable breakfast. Washing the dishes, I try to come up with a plan for the day.

My first priority is funds. I need to replace my lost holocom and gather some spending money.

A note from Marinek on the table lets me know that I’m free to raid their closet. I gently pull through neat piles of similarly textured clothes. Most of Marinek’s non-work attire has patterns or is blocked into a few colours. They look fine, but something more nondescript would be comforting to me. After some time, I locate a suitable brown sweater and simple white t-shirt at the very bottom of their closet.

Dressed, washed, and ready to face the day, I grab the spare key Marinek left by her note and head out. Today, more settled than last night, I notice the warm wornness of the hall. It feels lived in and cared for. I smile, happy my friend has found someplace like this to call home.

A neighbour steps out and waves at me. We chat for a bit before I ask if they know anyone willing to take me on for some odd jobs. They mention a grocer around the corner and give me directions. I thank them. Their soft, wrinkled hand pats my arm and their thin, whiskered lips wish me luck. I smile and nod my thanks before leaving.

In the stairwell, I shiver and I pretend I don’t know why. Shame and frustration build as I rush to the bottom floor. I push back the rising memories of the last time a stranger cared for me.[1]

Pushing open the door, I notice details of the lobby behind it that I also missed. The floor gleams dark green and polished copper accents shine along the furnishings. Someone behind a desk waves at me and I can’t find the energy to smile back.

In the street, I pause and take a breath. I try to centre myself and push my awareness outwards. My eyes shut. I feel the shape of the street beneath me, the mass of the buildings. Further out, I can feel the edges of the bubble, holding back an immense pressure of water. I have been warned not to seek out the feel of water as it overwhelms, weighs down, and carries off the curious or careless. Today, I bite back the urge to try.

Laughing softly to myself, I open my eyes and see the world I feel and know. I forgot how different Wrenis looks in the day, the ocean faintly glowing; its secrets revealed in translucent blues. The sunlight barely penetrating the dome. The copper streetlamps are dimmed and the benches along the street are filled. Flowers border it on either side,[2] and I think of my little black flower, now safely secured to my bracelet.

I head around the corner to the recommended grocer and they are indeed in search of extra hands. I spend a few hours restocking shelves and sweeping floors.

The grocer’s wares are, for the most part, typical of Wrenis—mostly an assortment of submerged plants, fish, and crustaceans. They also have a small greenhouse in the back that grows sunless plants.[3] As part of my payment, I ask for an abalone and some seaweed. It’s packed into a small bag that I take with me when I leave.

Done for the day, I wander down the street until I spot an importer carrying rice, carrots, and some other things I need. I spend a little more than half what I earned and, grocery bag now much weightier, head back to Marinek’s to prepare dinner.