Marco Domici: Angeline Harbok
"You can't do that here, miss." The old man pushed the rolling trashcan into the room and started sweeping up. "Company rules."
Angeline took a deep drag off her cigarette without even looking at the man. She continued to slouch in the almost comfortable but worn to tatters chair. "I'm sitting in front of a furnace hot enough to turn a body into total ash. Who cares about a little more smoke?" She nodded towards the furnace. "They don't. Trust me."
"Ang, you can't do that. I told you the same thing last year. And the year before." He took a seat close by. Not too close.
"Every year you tell me the same thing." Ang took another deep drag. "And every year I have to argue with myself. 'Do I show him a badge, bribe him with a bottle, or just shoot him and toss his body in with someone else?' Harv, it's getting to be an old debate. Are you sure I might not change my mind?"
"It's worked for me so far." Harvey reached over and picked up the small brown bag between them. A quick look assured him no one else was around this late at night so he unscrewed the top and took a swig. "Looks like someone got here before me, Ang. You okay?"
It was a long moment. "Ang?"
"You ever watch one of those stupid vids where you want to jump into the scene and start smacking people until they start thinking?"
"Not since I went blind, Ang. The implants don't work too well with modern comm channels."
"Sorry Harv. Forgot." Ang reached over for the bottle and took a deep swig. "They're good enough to recognize me in a dark room?"
"Not really. I guessed. Same day, same foul smokes, same slump in the same tatty chair. What were you then, twelve? Thirteen?"
"Depends on who you asked, I guess. Chronologically twelve, I think. I could be as young as nine if that's what the johns wanted. They seldom seemed to look for someone older, though."
"Sorry, Ang. Didn't mean to bring up the past."
"Too late, Harv. The past just jumped me full force." Ang flicked the butt through the furnace. "I'll be back tomorrow, Harv. Officially. If you find bodies stuffed in closets you'll know someone else tried to tell me to quit smoking. Might give them a heads up."
"I'll let the janitor staff know. The bones don't listen to us much." He chuckled. "If you're willing to take recommendations, there's Crab McKenzie. He could get stuffed into a closet and no one would complain."
