(Page 1 of 3) The Black Leather Jacket by Michael BirdSUMMARY: A Short Cyberpunk Story, about drugs, women and betrayal.
http://koncept.blog.com
Black Leather Jacket
Koncept reached up and removed the eyegogs
and the 'trodes crown from his head. Pulling the
hairpins that kept his shoulder length black
hair, out of the 'trodes way. His hair fell
covering the six bald spots around his head,
where Stokely had shaved it allow for better
'trode contact.
He folded his gear up, almost religiously,
placing each piece into a velvet bag. The bags
were marked with a golden book surrounded by
multicolored wires. He put the bags into a large
duffle bag. He glanced around the empty hotel
room that had been his home for the past week.
Koncept didn't know if Stokely would take him
back, and deep inside he really didn't care. He
opened the dresser drawers and removed all the
cash and his only change of clothes, and stuffed
them into his duffle.
He carried the bag over to the door, setting
it down and shrugging in to his old, smelly,
beat up black leather jacket. Stokely had
always hated it, she said and was fucking
hideous. She was right, he knew it. It smelled of
thousands of cigarettes he'd smoked in it, of
snyth-whisky that had been spilt on it at some
club or other.
And the jacket was hideous, the
snyth-leather was worn out in places, most of
the zippers didn't work, but he didn't care. He
lived in that jacket for almost six years now.
He reached into the breast pocket and pulled out
the only holopic he had ever owned. It was of
Stokely. He stared at it for a moment, he felt
a solitary tear slip from the corner of his eye,
"Fuck her.", he said to the empty room. As he
said it, he flicked the picture toward the
garbage can. He missed; the holo landed face up,
projecting a 3D of Stokely above it, the holo
flickered from age . He looked at his hands they
were shaking uncontrollably. He needed a puff of
Acceltate.
With that he opened the door and walked
out, never to look back. Mega City raised around
him in all direction, the nano machine built
buildings towering above the slums of this
district. He felt his normal sense of awe at the
shear size of the MegaCity. He'd immigrated to the
city about six years ago, from the Free States
League, before the war broke out. He'd always
dreamed of coming to Mega City, it was nothing
like he had dreamed. He was, at the time, a kid
from the 'burbs. He was a console cowboy, and he thought he was the shit back then. He soon found out he wasn't.
About ten minutes after he go off the bullet train, he got mugged, the bastard stole everything,
Koncept figured that if he'd had a free hand,
the he'd tried to rob him of his organs. So he
spent his first week in the big MC, sleeping on
on ventilator grates, and eating out of dumpsters. That's how he met Stokely.
She was working at the Church of the Holy
Book, and he had been dumpster diving at the
church, looking for warm clothes, winter was
coming and the nights were getting cold. She had
stepped out the back door to dump a load of
trash, she scared the holy shit out of Koncept,
who thought she was the owner, there to shockmaul
his ass for dumpster diving.
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