Kane scratched at his crotch. Darn it, that damn hooker definitely had something of course, in his mind that was the problem, not in any way was it connected to the fact that hed been several weeks without a shower or a proper change of clothes at all.
Sat in the leather flight chair, clad in just underwear, he wasnt a pretty sight, his lank white hair plastered to his head. As for the smell, well it was lucky he had his ship jury rigged to automatic and centralised functions to minimize on crew i.e. needing only him danger money to serve on his ship would have been involved for the odour alone.
The view outside was magnificent, space stretching for as far as the eye could see and no other person in sight. This was how he liked it, none of this trouble other people often brought to the table.
It was his 60th Birthday and he was spending it how he wanted to this year ignoring calls from his remaining family to come to see them back on Leeds.
Of course, none of them where adventurous enough to hop on board a ship and come and see him (not thatd be too much effort for them) but hed always disliked his birthday anyways that attitude started on his 14th, his uncle, a notorious drunk and womaniser turned up to the party with his new wife, of course, people thought her withdrawn, bedraggled look strange but passed it off as yet again Uncle Frank exercising his freedom and patronising some drug addled vice girl. It wasnt until she was caught dosing up on Cardamine in the bathroom that it became apparent Uncle Frank was socialising in some dangerous circles and an almighty row had turned a happy day into a nightmare of thrown chairs, glasses being smashed over heads and a couple of nights in the cells for all of the adults present leaving the young Kane to clean up the mess they left the apartment in.
Every year since, something had gone wrong somehow and it always seemed to centre on his birthday in some way there was always that connection. Maybe it was his curse, Kane often mulled over that every person had some sort of curse, some called it karma, a price to pay back to creation or whatever you want to call it thrust upon you at birth. Crimes for a past life of wrong doing or maybe the universe or fate were just cruel especially to him it seemed
Hed tried religion to free him of his downbeat mindset one group of Zoners who praised the goddess Eris had seemed so promising but his constant refusal to fully embrace enlightenment and outlook of constant self centred paranoia (as they had called it), precluded him from becoming a permanent member and sent him drifting off into space.
It was only in space that he really felt comfortable. Luckily for him, a cushy job as a freighter pilot for BMM had given him the experience he needed to begin travelling alone this was also a necessity, his fellow workers found his habit of flying the ship in just his pants disturbing. Obviously soon, one of the women took real offence at it and claimed he had sexually harassed her (this wasnt true, hed thrust his crotch at her as an insult during a particularly heated row over his uniform preference, after all she wasnt very attractive) and this brought an end to his days at BMM and introduced him to a short spell in a secure facility for the mentally unsound hed enjoyed that stay, his almost naturist dislike of clothing when not absolutely necessary wasnt frowned upon there as it was in society but all things come to an end and with his time served he was released back into the general population.
That was 20 years ago now and time heals all wounds so they say, but one wound would never heal for Kane his birthday curse. So he sat, surrounded by his own fug, staring out at the glorious indifference of the stars, sipping from the bottle of Gallic wine hed managed to acquire, drawing heavily on the synth-weed cigarette hed rolled and sat back in the sweaty leather chair and smiled. He was alone, and he liked it that way