Promises were made that have to be kept. So without further adieu, I present the first freewrite of the month: Aftermarket Parts
Echo had every right to feel good. The new ware worked as advertised. Everything inch of his body felt like it was turned up to eleven. The doc InfraRed told him about had been a longshot. After all the old ware was buried so deep in his endocannabinoid system that most cutters wouldn’t even attempt ripping it out. “Lasting damage.” They said, “You could experience permanent ghost pains or even lose cognitive function.”
What he was losing was his edge. Seven years in the biz and he’d gone from cutting edge cyber-soldier to that guy with the tech package that wasn’t even receiving updates anymore. He ran the fingers of one hand through his thinning black hair as he pushed through the door of Metal & Mead. A Sliderule cover of CCR’s Travelin’ Band blared over crackling Sendai speakers. The crowd didn’t seem to care. It was Payday Friday and the mugs were all full. Quickly he made his way across the dance floor to the one remaining free spot at the edge of the bar.