“You look like someone who enjoys a good match.”
Bobson was desperately avoiding eye contact with the man next to him at the bar, a man who had chosen, out of all the open seats in the otherwise empty lounge, to sit on the stool directly next to his. Even worse, he had already inched the stool closer to say, “Just want to see the game, don’t mind me,” as he gestured to the projection smeared behind the endless rows of bottles behind the counter. All Bobson wanted, after a shit cycle on the clock and another shitty fight with his latest lover, was to have a few rounds alone before beginning the loop all over again. One of the few pleasures of his third-cycle shift was that the station’s primary lounge was nearly always empty when he was released. He hoped the man had taken the hint. Maybe not….
Originally published June 29, 2024 in Utopia Science Fiction.