It had been three weeks, and every
day when Sera went to work at Rawlins, McGuire and Smith, and each day she had
to step over the woman who had set up shop on the steps leading up to the
place. Sera wasn’t wealthy: she, like all of the others living below the Domes,
scraped by on her wits and good luck.
Yet, whenever she saw the woman in the
gutter she stopped by and handed her the few credits that she kept in her
pocket.
“Hey,
lady.” the woman rasped at her on a Wednesday of little consequence, “Hey,
what’s your name?”
Sera
blinked at her and paused mid step. She looked back towards the doors of the
firm and shrugged, “I’m Sera Atson.”
“Christina.”
the woman held out a grimy hand and grinned, “I figured we ought to shake
hands, seeing as we’re neighbors and everything.”
Sera
smiled and shook the woman’s stinking fingers and then tried to politely wipe
her palm on her pant leg, “So, uh…how’s it going, Christina?”
“Fine,
I guess.” the woman shifted on the step and winked at her, “Another day in
paradise.”
“I
hear you.” Sera cleared her throat awkwardly, “Well, I gotta go. Work, and
such, you know.”
“No,
can’t say that I do.” Christina smiled, and for a second Sera could see how she
had once looked: her mouth had an easy, almost sexy curve to it, her eyes
glinted in the rays of the sun, and even though it was covered in grime, her
face had a beautiful, almost exotic shape.
Sera
stared at her for a second and then nodded awkwardly, “Well, I guess I’ll see
you later.”
“Not
if I see you first.” Christina grinned, and the sight of her teeth ruined the almost
seraphim-esque look that had crossed her face a moment before.
Sera
hurried inside and found her way to her desk just in time to see her boss
confront one of the few other employees angrily as he led a dirty, terrified
looking woman inside. She unfolded her mobile work station and pretended to be
flipping through the notes on one of her latest cases when she heard her boss
start to shout and she only somewhat covertly watched the scene in front of her
unfold.
Her
coworker, Robert, stood easily with his hands in his coverall pockets as McGuire
shouted into his face and pointed at the girl beside him as if she were one of
the rat-sized cockroaches that had long ago taken over the bathrooms. The ease
with which Robert took the abuse made Sera jealous: he was a crusader for the
downtrodden and the only thing that Sera had done all week was reject four
requests for what was essentially financial amnesty.
The
hours crawled past, and by the time that lunch rolled around, Sera had decided
that she was going to talk to Christina again. She picked up her food
supplements from the allotted dispenser at the rear of the building and
wandered outside to enjoy her fifteen minutes of what her bosses liked to call
the employees’ “recreational digestive recess.”
The
clouds had rolled in and transformed the out the sun into a pallid, almost
green-tinted ball, and when Sera stood on the step, she saw that Christina
hadn’t moved. She walked over and cleared her throat timidly, “Hey…do you mind
if I sit with you?”
The woman looked up with surprise and
mutely shook her head, so Sera sat down and offered Christina a supplement,
“Hungry?”
“Starving!”
The woman grabbed it, and then looked suspiciously at her, “What do I have to
do for it?”
“What?
Nothing…just eat it.” Sera pushed her own supplements into her mouth and
swallowed.
“Oh
good. For a second, I was afraid that you were going to ask me to tongue your
snatch or something.” Christina almost rabidly swallowed the pill and sat in
silent enjoyment as she felt her stomach attack the nutrients, “So you work in
there?”
“Yeah.
I review cases all morning.” Sera looked over at the woman and smiled, “Do you
get many requests from people for you to…lick their snatches?” she tried to ask
flippantly, but found that the words stuck in her mouth unpleasantly.
Christina
laughed, “Yeah, more than you’d think. I’ve been on N2 for probably longer than
you’ve been alive, and now every time I try it I get sick. Actually physically
sick. I got nowhere to go detox, and since I don’t know anyone who really cares…so
I went to the one place I know they won’t come to try and beat the shakes.”
“Wow.”
Sera looked at the veins on her inner arms and cleared her throat, “Two years
ago, I lived on the street too. I sold most of my memories and was on N2, but I
beat it.” she thought back to where she’d been exactly two years prior: she had
been laying in a gutter with a cracked head, hallucinating and loving it.
Even though she
had cleaned up and started working again, she still lived alone in a one-room
tenement with no family and only a pigeon that she had rescued from a storm
drain to keep her company. The pigeon, which she had nicknamed Stumpy, had been
missing a wing, which was the only reason it had let her near it. Its missing
limp had probably been torn off by one of the city’s destitute, who had most
likely eaten it.
“It gets easier.
If you need someone to talk to, I know what you are going through.” Sera smiled
at Christina shyly, but found only a mocking grin staring back at her.
“No, no, no, just
no. I’m on a new drug that makes it so that I can’t go dose on N2 without being
sick. As soon as I’m off of it, I’m gonna get so slammed, it won’t even be
funny.” she sneered, mockingly, “Thanks for your little pity fest though. It
means so fucking much, you tourist. I think your lunch break is over, get
inside where you belong.” Sera stood up and took a step back as Christina
cackled, “Jesus, this ain’t a fucking tent revival.” Sera hurried inside,
trying to forget the ragged and cruel laughter.
That night, when
Sera when home, Stumpy was dead on her stood. Apparently, he had hopped outside
where one of her neighbors had smashed it with a rock. They were probably going
to cart it home when they heard Sera close the door and made themselves scarce.
Sera didn’t touch
it. She wordlessly opened her door and went inside without sparing more than a
second glance to it. As she was stripping to climb onto her thin mattress, she
heard someone outside scraping up the bird’s remains and s she lay down and
closed her eyes, and muttered, “Fuck you, Robert.”
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