Joe pulled his pants up, hopping away from the f*****g cunt and splashed some water on his face. He stared at his hands in the bathroom under the only light in the garconniere. Normal hands, just the way he remembered them. That spot where he had a burn mark, that cut in his thumb from a knife, cutting straight through his fingerprint. So weird, thinking he had augmentations.
He got back in the main room. Debra's t**s were half sticking out, she was sticking her face into the pillows, snoring. "Ugh, cover up, Debra," he said, and left the apartment.
He had product to sell, and he needed people to sell it to.
He went for his usual cup of frappe at the overnight shop round the corner. The girl there was familiar, tired, smiling up at him.
He got his usual cup of cold coffee full of sugar
