Hard Work: Science Fiction

It's rough, hard work, lady, he said, measuring her up and down as he said the words. She was a gaunt figure in a jumpsuit that had seen better days, folded up at the ankle and wrist cuffs, faded until he could only guess whether the original color had been blue or green or maybe even gray. It's hard work, he repeated. She didn't leave, just stared at him with those black eyes that looked like they'd seen hell itself. It's hard work, he said, but this time there was a note of resignation in his voice, and them who're dockside won't thank you none for it. For the first time she spoke. I don't expect thanks, she told him. The sound of her voice sent a shiver--

Inspiration: Doonesbury. "Hard work" and somewhere in there it strayed into CJ Cherryh territory.
Story Potential: High.
Notes: I may call it high just because I like reading this style of writing and there's not enough of it out there to please me. I mean, that's why I started writing ever, after all.