Jack woke again to the chirping birds, each peep sounding a bit like a tiny jackhammer to her aching head. The first morning of the weekend often started this way, though usually a few hours later. She silenced the birds, rubbed her eyes and banged her way through her tiny apartment to the water.
She drank down a couple of glasses and tried to convince herself that she felt better. She grabbed a hot breakfast packet from the box and chucked it in the zapper. She turned on the coffee and while everything was heating up, she found some comfortable clothes.
The zapper dinged and the coffee machine pinged, and Jack took her food and drink to the table. She ate and drank offline, becoming less aware of her headache, more aware of her surroundings and thinking subconsciously about the previous day’s revelations.
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