The Dog Star

Kim Sanders was not from a small town in Alabama. Her father was not an accountant and her mother was not a teacher. She did not attend a university in the same state where she did not have a degree in computer science. She was not a computer analyst for a company in Raleigh, North Carolina. She was not divorced and she was not 45. She was not 5'5" with dull brown hair, brown eyes and a pudgy stomach. Her name was not even Kim Sanders. Kim Sanders had been living a lie for 14 years.

It was a normal Tuesday. Kim had begun work at 8 that morning and now, a year later it seemed, it was lunch time. She stretched her arms up over her head, releasing the tension in her back. She grabbed her purse, logged out of her computer and headed out the door. The it was sunny outside and downtown Raleigh was already busy with business people heading to their favorite restaurants and eateries. 

A man sat on a bench across from Kim's office building. This was not extraordinary, that being what benches are for. He had been there since that morning and was looking pleasantly up at the sky. He did not say anything or do anything, so the people around ignored him as they went about their lunch hour. Kim ignored him too, as she left for her favorite sandwich shop a block away from her office. She ordered a Reuben and a coke and ate it quietly in the corner booth. She ignored the man again when she came back to work. She ignored the fact that he was gone when she left that evening for home. 

Kim lived in a small house outside of Raleigh. She  went home that Tuesday and went about her normal routine. She threw the mail and her purse on the kitchen table as she closed and locked the door behind her. She filled her tea kettle up with water and put it on to boil before going up stairs to change. Her bedroom was a decent size and she only had a full sized bed for herself. Tossing her work clothes in the hamper by the bathroom, Kim pulled sweat pants and a t shirt from a company convention on. She pulled her dull brown hair up on top of her head and grabbed the book she had left on the night stand that morning. Downstairs, she thumbed through the mail and tossed out the junk. She thought about taking a visit to Ocracoke that weekend, watch the horses run and see Teach's Hole. The tea kettle was not whistling yet so she walked into her living room. 

There, in her wingback chair, sat the man from the bench. He smiled at her and she felt the warmth fill the room. His half-moon glasses sat on the end of his nose and his bright blue eyes twinkled at her. She did not jump or scream. She simply looked at the intruder in her home. 

"Hello, Caridei." even the man's voice was warm.

"Hello, Dumbledore," she answered, "Would you like a cup of tea? I've made enough for two."