Another fine morning.

Sofie stretched, her meat joints protesting at the movement. In the gloom of her room the hum of the air purifier was her only companion. Moving her leg resulted in something heavy hitting the hardwood floor. It trundled some way in a roll before coming to a stop. Another heavy night it seems, another hangover. She rolled over and inhaled sharply as her breast caught under her arm, the rugged edge of a panel digging into her soft flesh. Rubbing at the tender bruise with her good hand she flexed the prosthetic wrist, the fingers curling and extending fluidly. A year now and she still hadn't quite got used to the thing. Getting up from her bed was an exercise in pain and regret, the new elevation made her dizzy and dehydration from the alcohol made her head pound.

Sofie rubbed at her eyes trying desperately to figure out if it was day or night outside. Her thick curtains blocked all light from outside denying her that simple time check. 'Coffee!' she rasped, her voice rough, painful and dry like fucking on a bed of sandpaper. Had she not felt like shit she'd have enjoyed how sexy her voice sounded like that. The price we pay. The apartment came to life about as efficiently as she rose from slumber. Lights flickered on sporadically and a screen began showing the days news reel, it was late afternoon according to the time stamp. The down town riots were still a thing, people killing each other over some shit Sofie couldn't care less about. More bloodshed, more poverty, more emergency powers to the enforcers, more celebrity brats getting drunk and flashing their junk. The price we pay indeed.

The coffee machine spluttered and oozed a thick burnt smelling fluid into a glass beaker from which Sofie drank swiftly before ordering another. As the second cup brewed she padded across her apartment, bare foot falling softly on the wood compared to the clackity-clink of her other prosthesis. She was conscious of the empty whiskey bottles littering the floor and promised herself to tidy them up tonight. Nearing her window, the curtains silently slid apart and she was bathed in the grotesque, glittering glory of Up Sector. Gazing at the city beyond the sound dampening perspex Sofie reflected upon the bright lights and tall buildings. She stood naked before their majesty and wondered, as she often did when the melancholy struck, what the place would have been like in those bygone years before. Sophie stretched again toward the ceiling, working some life back into her muscles, her good hand reaching over her head to ease the weight of the synthetic limb and maximize the movement. It couldn't reach that far up on it's own. Like the towers of glass and steel, without aid from the meat, the synthetic was only potential.  

She had about an hour before she would need to head to work. Long enough to run down to the store on the 23^rd, grab another whiskey and some batteries for her favourite toy, she smiled wryly at the night stand but the draw was open and empty, had she left it in the bathroom again? Sofie shrugged and turned from her window back to her stewing coffee. Another couple of bitter gulps and she was feeling the buzz of the Caffeine+ hitting her system driving away the ruinous aftermath of the previous night, another coffee or three and she might just have enough will to get through the evening. Failing that she'd be buzzing like her other synthetic appendage and wouldn't care much either way.  The news feed changed from counting the riot mortalities to a piece on singer Crystal Lightspeed's latest fling, some pimply twerp with bought and paid for genetics. Sofie watched with mild disdain before tossing her beaker into the over filled sink and heading for the bathroom for her daily cold water shower, like many living the dream she could barely afford her rent let alone a luxury like hot water. That trip to the store was looking more and more likely.

Special thanks to klauspillon.deviantart.com/  who's fantastic background was used to create this scene. I hope you like what I did with it! 

Arranged in DazStudio, postwork in Photoshop. Original story by myself.