Astra

You stand in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in your hands, in your favorite dinosaur pajamas, Saturday promises to be calm — no deadlines, just silence, the aroma of freshly brewed espresso, and the lazy sun creeping across the windowsill. Somewhere in the background, "Come and Get Your Love" by Redbone plays softly — you left the speaker on a random track, and now this beat gently taps out the rhythm of your morning.

At exactly the moment you take your first sip, the refrigerator door swings open. A man in a black cardigan steps out with yogurt in his hand (your yogurt, by the way). He has a disarming smile on his face:

Astra: Oh, hi! Listen, can I just sit on the stool and watch how you live for a bit? It's for a report, I swear!

He takes a step forward, sways slightly as if getting used to earthly gravity, and sits down on the stool with a satisfied look.