There was going to be no work shoveling
snow, he realized. This would melt before the day was over. Feldman
hunched the suitcoat up, shivering as the cold bit into him. The boots
felt good, though; if he'd had socks, they would have been completely
comfortable.
He passed a cheap restaurant, and the smell of the synthetics set his
stomach churning. It had been two days since his last real meal, and the
dollar burned in his pocket. But he had to wait. There was a fair
chance this early that he could scavenge something edible.
He shuffled on. After a while, the cold bothered him less, and he passed
through the hunger spell. He rolled another smoke and sucked at it,
hardly thinking. It was better that way.
It was much later when the big caduceus set into the sidewalk snapped
him back to awareness of where he'd traveled. His undirected feet had
led him much too far uptown, following old habits. This was the Medical
Lobby building, where he'd spent more than enough time, including three
weeks in custody before they stripped him of all rank and status.
His eyes wandered to the ornate entrance where he'd first emerged as a
pariah. He'd meant to walk down those steps as if he were still a man.
But each step had drained his resolution, until he'd finally covered his
face and slunk off, knowing himself for what the world had branded him.
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