Coyotes yelped in the streets, no longer afraid to roam among us. I made pancakes, while the cat stared longingly out the window. As if she were a wild thing, too. As if she wouldn’t be hunted down and torn to shreds out there in the dark. You asked for astronaut jam for your pancakes. You mean apricot, I said. Oh, yes, you said. I was thinking of the stars. How small they appear. How long it takes for their light to reach us. How still, across the vast and bleak expanse of space, they send us their light.