IN SHORT"Dear NASA" by Hannah Star Rogers
Dear NASA,
I met you for the first time in Huntsville in the 6th grade and all I remember was one father’s suggestion that some of the adults on the overstaffed overnighter could skip the rocket-shaped chicken and take lunch at Hooters. Now my students are begging me to bring them to you. Wallops Island is not so far from the geese-wintering refuge, so the scorched earth your private enterprise left on our collective property seems like a good lesson. The surprise is the flight director, Lyndi, about my age, who presses her tortoise-shell headband into her temples as the field trip coordinator says, the professor would like you to tell them about the day of the accident. The students leaned forward, but I lean back away from the badge dangling over her elbow when shyness crosses her arms. 
Illustration by Megan Llewellyn
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