The Vacuum

He was comparing star photos, looking for supernovas, when his new neighbour’s vacuum started again. He calmed himself, counting his eggcups. It didn’t work. He went downstairs and knocked. The vacuum and a backbeat whammed through the door. He knocked harder, once for every eggcup.
     A woman answered, laughing, with a little curly-haired white dog that bounced up. “Down!” she told it, wiping her forehead, laughing again.
     “The vacuum, um,” he said, smiling shyly. She was pretty.
     “Vacuum?” (Now she was puzzled and pretty both.) “Oh! My treadmill! Down, Astra!”
     “Astra,” he thought, and wondered if she liked the stars.

Image: Sloan Digital Sky Survey