EXT. FORT COLLINS, COLORADO – OUTSIDE AMY’S HOUSE – 5:45 A.M.
Darkness still fills the suburban streets. Icy and snow lingers on the north-facing side of the street. A car drives by slowly, headlights briefly illuminating a 21-year-old Dodge Caravan and a yellow cab in the driveway.
INT. AMY’S BEDROOM
Almost total darkness. Thick curtains hide any outside light. The red led glow of charging electronic clearly visible.
Lying on her side, Amy slumbers under a pile of mismatched blankets, one arm thrust under the pillow.
A little girl, looking remarkably like one of Amy’s daughters at the age of 4, sits on the edge of the bed wearing a Dora the Explorer nightgown, her hair in a braid down the back of her neck. This terrifying apparition is the anthropomorphized version of AMY’S BRAIN.
Amy shifts uncomfortably.
Amy’s brain’s feet swing idly against the side of the bed.
Amy pulls her arm out from under the covers, grimacing at the pain in her shoulder.
Amy freezes, says nothing.
Hey. You awake?
Amy rolls over, settles differently and prays for sleep to returns.
Amy’s Brain turns on the bed, lifting one leg up and bouncing slightly.
(words falling faster and faster as she speaks)
Because if you are, I was thinking about some things. So, like in Bronze Star, what if the issues were Jay-Cee’s and not Chris’? And that SF one, wouldn’t it be cool if we could do something with AI. I was thinking that maybe it was lost in the baggage claim but that is a whole lot like the backstory for the ship. We should probably read that. Oh, oh, and don’t forget Space Team 3 downloaded last night.
Something lands heavily on the bed, making the mattress rock. It’s AMY’S STOMACH. It looks remarkably like a cat she once had.
I’m hungry. Did we even have dinner?
We had meatloaf. Just meatloaf. We ate it out of the pan, remember?
Shut up and let me sleep. It’s –
Amy rolls over with a groan and reaches for her phone. Dragging it close to her face, squinting against the brightness, she checks the time.
5:47 a.m. My alarm goes off in 45 minutes. If you don’t shut up, I will kill you both with cheap vodka, girl scout cookies, and a Fast & Furious marathon.
That’s what you did last night. So, anyway, I was thinking the Pop Smoke would be a great title maybe for the next VA book. And then you should probably wash the van but how do we get that Yakima box off?
I’m pretty sure there is bacon.
AMY’S BLADDER (V.O.)
I gotta pee.
Groaning, Amy pushes the heels of her hands against her eyes. All three voices overlap along with a new voice – AMY’S SHOULDER.
AMY’S SHOULDER (V.O.)
You really should learn to dictate. Or at least use the mouse left-handed. You’re old, you know.
Amy sits up and flicks on the bedside lamp.
FADE TO WHITE.