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Tearing the headset from her, she jumped to her bare feet, stepping into a food box left there since the night before. Or, probably, a lot longer than that. She staggered to the sink, sticking her head beneath the tap and pouring water into her mouth. She swilled the water around her teeth several times then spat it out into the sink before taking another mouthful and swallowing it.
Turning, she leaned back against the sink, scratching her stomach beneath her grubby vest. She thought for a second, feeling the usual confusion after travelling through the Thought-Scape, then tapped the panel on the edge of the sink.
The toilet slid out from beneath the sink unit, prodding the back of her knees, and she shuffled forward a few inches before pulling down her boxer shorts and sitting down to relieve herself. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to work out what time it was. Travelling the Thought-Scape tended to confuse a body's internal clock. The blackout blinds across her window told her nothing.
"'Puter! Time!" She reached to the side, searching for toilet paper in the darkness and only found an empty roll. Reaching down to her feet, she searched with her hand until it caught a touch of cloth. She folded the used panties, reached between her legs and wiped herself before dropping the panties back to the floor.
"On your feet, Soldier! The time is oh-eight-sixteen hours! Get your ass on the ground and give me twenty!" She groaned as the 'Puter roared at her. She had thought the drill sergeant theme would have motivated her to exercise more. It failed.
"'Puter! Blinds! Implement basic voice theme. Volume, half." Standing, she tapped the panel on the edge of the sink and the toilet slid back under the counter, flushing as it disappeared.
The blinds on the window of her tiny apartment whirred and jerked as they rose, allowing the bleak artificial sunlight from outside to leak into the room. Little more than eight feet by ten, this was her home. Filthy used clothes covered the uncarpeted floor. Empty food packs mixed in with the clothing and, here and there, pieces of technology, that she had stolen and had no idea what they did, poked out of the few storage hideaways.
The bed, a single that took up far too much room, hugged the wall, leaving only a foot or so between the bed and the sink unit. She could hear the toilet continuing to flush and kicked out at the panel, forgetting she still had her boxer shorts around her ankles. Her foot hit the panel, silencing the toilet and she fell back onto the bed and couldn't decide whether to stay there or not.
With the blinds fully, finally open, light streamed into the tiny apartment. She had to get up. Needed to, if she wanted to make the rent this month. Sighing, she lifted up her legs, allowing her boxer shorts to drop down to her knees and then pulled them all the way up, shuffling her backside to struggle them to their proper position. She tried not to notice the smell.
Bending almost double, she looked under the bed to find a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that didn't have holes in them and, most important, didn't require fumigating. Picking up her jeans, she replicated the movements used to pull on her boxer shorts, rolling forward to her feet to fasten the buttons. It took her several seconds to work out whether the t-shirt was inside out or not, then pulled it over her head, failing to care anymore.
Dropping her feet into the self-fastening boots, she felt almost human. A black leather jacket, or whatever the material was, finished the outfit. She headed the two feet or so to the door and stopped, checking herself in the cracked, stained mirror. She was a mess, black make-up around her eyes had run and faded, lipstick dragged across her cheek, her short, black hair stuck up in directions she didn't know existed. She would do.
The door opened in anticipation of her exit and closed again as she left. She waited, cocking her head to the side, then hammered a fist on the door until she heard the hiss and click of the locking system. The corridor, wider than her apartment, held several figures sat in cardboard boxes, makeshift lean-to's and old woollen-like blankets.
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Anna In The Garden
Science Fiction[Watty's 2021 Shortlister] Two girls. Separated. Connected. For Anna, her world is one of privilege and safety. A lonely prison. Ken lives with complete freedom, but her world is one of darkness and danger around every corner. When their worlds coll...