Demoted

They board quietly. I set the course.
Two passengers, female. No shared record.

They sit beside each other.

One woman looks through the observation window.
Pluto is visible at the edge of the system.

The other woman turns her body toward her.
Her hands rest still in her lap.
She asks if she is all right.

She says she is only tired.
Asked if something happened, she says nothing happened.
She looks through the window again.

The other woman asks if she is sad.
She says sadness is not the right word.
She says she has been working on herself and does not want to return to old patterns.

The other woman asks what pattern she means.
She says she used to let small things affect her.

The other woman asks if something is affecting her now.
She says she is choosing not to give it energy.

She smiles.
She says a smile changes the outcome.
She says she is faking it until she makes it.

The other woman does not smile.
She does not look away.

After several minutes, the first woman says she misses the place they have left.
The other woman asks if she is allowed to miss it.
She says she knows that missing things creates attachment.
She looks down at her hands.

The other woman asks what is wrong with attachment.
She does not answer.

The vessel leaves the station.
The woman looks through the window until the station is no longer visible.
She closes her eyes.
She takes a breath.
She smiles.

I carry people. Their words travel with them.