"You haven't left your apartment in several days..." Lina's parole officer told her.
"What gave it away?" Lina said, still in her post-release funk. Prison had been constricting, but the lack of choice made getting through the days easier. Her family was of no help, shunning or being outright ashamed of the once drug-addict and robber. She'd been the lucky one; her boyfriend had been shot.
Officer Smith poked through a few empty bags of chips and other snacks left on the kitchen counter. "The smell mostly. I'm not going to find any candy in here, am I?"
Lina laughed at him from the living room couch and tapped her head. "The MindWeave keeps me clean, you know that."
He opened some of the cupboards at random, "It's still experimental... we don't know that... especially long term."
"Come on, man," Lina said. "You saw the video. They had a baggie full of brown sugar, and I didn't so much as drool. The chip in my head has cured me."
Smith looked at her suspiciously from the kitchen door. "Color me still dubious. Ten years in this work and I've never seen a wonder cure for a hardcore junkie."
She looked defiantly at him... who was this prick to come into her home and judge her? Oh, right, a corporate and court-appointed parole officer to ensure the chip in her head kept her clean and out of a life of crime. In annoyance, she flipped through the TV channels.
Finished poking through her kitchen Smith returned to the living room, his eyes constantly on his ward. After a long pause, he said, "Inspection."
"Oh for fuck's sake," Lina said as she rose off the couch. "I don't have any drugs on me."
Her hands went to the back of her neck without conscious thought, and she set her feet shoulder-width apart. The position felt rigid and uncomfortable until she remembered to thrust her chest out. Now she was comfortable, it felt natural. She continued watching TV, knowing he would pat her down.