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"Let me tell you something that broke my heart this passed week." Orion wrote to her online journalism class. She sat in her studio apartment at the rather small table in the middle of her kitchen. It was five in the morning, the sun slowly peeking through the window gleaming over the wooden floors in an orangey hue and highlighting the little dust specs floating around. Orion crossed her legs up on the chair as she hunched over her computer, tired circles under her eyes from being up all night writing essays. A pot of coffee brewed on the counter top, the sound of dripping coffee and its smell filled the small space, easing her senses a little bit as she still tried to type properly. "As a graduate thesis project I assisted with this past semester I created hybrid clay pieces. Made for eco-friendly filtration these clay molds were created to retain water and slowly spread it for longer periods of time to conserve water for gardens. This was a community-based project to help our city in urban gardening, creating healthy, high-quality, safe and affordable food. In my mind, in light of recent events, acting as one eco-friendly community would help us rebuild together to create a better tomorrow. As we clean up our cities from the Battle of New York, activists suggested and supported the plan to start building more gardens, less useless buildings, more community based projects and programs to support each other, less acts of rage or 'avenging' for personal gain. This was the biggest protest in New York after the battle…to do a thorough deep clean of their city and it inspired other cities to do the same. In my hometown there was tension about this sort of idea. A lot of us college students pledged and pleaded that the empty field across one of the dorm buildings be turned into a dedication of Dick Bacon, a kind community figure and nudist. He would be found sunbathing nude in this open park, he bothered no one; in fact he was a friendly face that became known well in the community until he passed away in a building collapse at New York. As we thought we were being heard it came to my attention that we were being completely ignored. I rode my bike passed the old dorm I used to live in and sit in the field for awhile…covering every inch of that field was a giant, ugly, brick building. It was a new indoor rock climbing facility. I was horrified wondering what happened. We had petitions, donations, and popular figures supporting the cause. Yet they still built this ugly ass building that we have no need for. Still in a complete stupor I noticed the street sign that this disgusting building was on.

They renamed the street Dick Bacon Ave.

He wouldn't have wanted this.

We don't want this."

Orion sighed as she pressed the return key one last time, submitting the little rant, and finally rubbing her eyes painfully. The story had unpleasant irony to it and it left a foul taste in her mouth. These were things that she had come to realize people think they have control over in their democratic society sadly it's only something they believe. She went straight to the mayor of their city demanding the reason behind the facility and all he said was 'It's for the community'.

For the community?

Paying $30 to climb a wall?

'To help distract them from recent events and exercise." He replied with great disinterest.

We could do all of those things without a giant half a million-dollar fucking building which is in fact probably a big spit in the community's face and insult to Dick Bacon who was crushed by a giant fucking building.

She was escorted out of city hall after that comment.

Orion stood up from the chair she sat in all night, cracking many bones in her spine, and picking up her 'Good Morning Asshole' mug, filling it to the brim with dark liquid.

There was a light knock at her door. Orion, wearing a very loose extra large grey tank top which pretty much just hung off her and plush shorts that were covered in donuts, she walked up to the door and opened it. She looked down the old rickety hallway with faded carpet and hardwood showing underneath it.

"Hey, Ori."

Orion then noticed her neighbor, a small shy blonde with round glasses. The girl dressed like her grandma in a vintage flora dress and dull cardigan. The girl, Ally, worked at a twenty-four hour diner that gave her really shitty hours but she couldn't find it in herself to quit.

"Ally," Orion sipped her coffee and raised an eyebrow. She knew she looked gross with her boob probably popping out the side of her shirt, her hair stuck up in all directions and mascara smudged under her eyes. "How'd you know I was up?"
"You're always up." Ally teased as she dug around in her big burlap tote bag that she called 'rustic'. "You said you write best from midnight til dawn. It's dawn."

Well she wasn't wrong.

The corner of Orion's lip turned up slightly, "How was work?"

Ally gave her a blank stare as she replied, "Work."

Orion shrugged, not really expecting any other answer. The diner was gross but tourists loved it for it's 'aesthetic'.

"Here's the paper." Ally pulled out the large stack. This was a thing Ally did for Orion once a week when she got back fro work. Ally gave her the paper at the beginning of the week and Orion gave her very generous discounts at the town's grocery store.

"Thanks." Orion took it from her. "Grocery shopping tomorrow?"

"Yep." Ally said and tugged open her apartment door with great force due to it getting stuck all the time. "See you then."

Orion tucked the paper under her arm and sipped her coffee again as she closed the door. She walked bare foot across the wood floor and turned on her record player, playing the original soundtrack of Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back. She tossed the paper on the tabletop and turned to grab a watering can to water her plants, until the front page of the paper caught her eye.

'The First Avenger' was the headline. Orion leaned toward the table to get a closer look at the picture on the front page and it was of Captain America and his Howling Commandos, together just after the rescue of the German base in World War 2. She scanned the article of a museum in Washington D.C opening an exhibit dedicated to the First Avenger. One of the pictures caught her attention in particular.

She recognized it very very well.

Orion put her cup down and picked up the front sheet of paper, staring extremely hard at the picture as if expecting the picture to change but it never did and a new confusion came over her as a past memory came back to her.

2012.

In 2012 Orion was a part of a non-profit program based in the University of Arts London for artists and scientists came together to create innovative ways to engage society and communicate the importance and danger of global climate change. As a part of the collective Orion joined them on an unknown benefactor endorsed expedition to the Arctic, she went for personal enlightenment, to educate herself and gain awareness of environment. On the voyage the artists and scientists witnessed the collapse of a glacier and they explored the debris. She brought her camera with her because she knew there was no chance in hell she would do a plein air piece in the fucking Arctic. As she, with several other artists and scientists, explored the ice and snow of the fallen glacier there was a particular scene that caught her attention.

A piece of debris.

She knelt down and focused the shot. A wide shot of the barren landscape and just off center to the left was the debris. It wasn't until she got the picture did she realize that it wasn't just an ordinary piece of debris…it was a shield.

After getting the attention of the scientists to take a look at it everything from the expedition was confiscated. Every picture, notebook, sketchbook, and information of what had happened was taken away for security purposes. Apparently they had stumbled upon something they shouldn't have.

But she knew that picture.

It was her picture.