pro.Logue one point oh one

     "But I can't give it back; they want to pay for her Augments," I awoke with a start, hearing my Dad raise his voice to an unfamiliar whine.

    "I said No, and I mean it," my Mom's tone was different than I was used to, steely and angry.  I felt a sense of distress settle around my heart, even as I tried to piece together what they must be arguing about.  I realized I was clenching my fists into the sheet and blanket covering my waist. Mom usually went along with all of Dad's 'hare-brained schemes'-her phrase, or 'visionary ideas'-his phrase, as he expected and frequently demanded. Letting go of the bedclothes, I rubbed my eyes for a second, and waited to hear his rejoinder.

    I must have passed out without realizing it, because when I awoke again, my Mom was crying and touching my cheek, her 'hand so much colder than my skin.  Although I could not really see more than her silhouette leaning towards my bunk, I reached for her neck, pulling her close, her exoskeleton clanking against the deckplate as she kneeled next to me.

     "Momma, Momma, what's wrong?" I remember my voice echoing so strangely, childishly as I fell, headlong, into blackest unconsciousness...

///for a long, long time....I didn't have anything to remember but this shred of memory.  I remember replaying it, separating and analyzing individual sounds I had heard separate from the scant visual component of the recollection.

    Then, they rebooted me...

The End

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