I miss her.
When my system wakes up, I'm already staring daggers through the ceiling, and I hate it. The sun splays across the shitty, jagged couch I slept on, its gently dying light pouring across the folds of the XXXL Burst City band t-shirt I bought last night, pale golden beams highlighting the beer some prick spilled on me. I'm feeling kind of angry at nothing, and that's more than likely... me hurting so badly that I need to put it into something else. My hand is snaking its way up my side, checking for any, uh, damage that I could have sustained last night, and I realize my abdomenal plate is open again - I'm jacked. I chuckle a little at having somehow pissed myself off enough to have not realized I'm high. I turn the big, chunky knob I picked for its tactility, the signal lightens, and my mesh connection lowers. I'm a little bit more here, even if I don't want to be.
Carrie's right, I gotta do some kinda grieving.
I roll off the couch, grab my pants (oh shit, bundle the handgun up in them), trudge off to shower before Tara wakes up. By the time I've cleaned out my seams and washed the random sticky liquids from the rubbery plastic of my joint covers, the sun is finally setting. I kiss Tara on the cheek on the way out, as I spot her on the couch, doing a reasonably sound impression of myself not all that long ago. I leave her my e-mail (spacemoth@robotgirl9mm.meshspace.net) and say my goodbyes, trying to match her impression of me with a facade of happy normalcy.
The apartment building door slams hard as I leave, announcing my return to the world with a noise like garbage being thrown into a trash can. I start walking, wherever the hell I'm going.
shadows cast in unseen halls, strange forms on darken'd walls