Wednesday, March 5, 2014

The pipes squirt propellers. Suzette snores in the corner, arm draped over her sister Nell, supine and silent. Dust hangs in the air, vibrating with each snore and jet of dirty steam. 21st century French punk rock plays quietly from one of Nell's Tokyo feeds. 

Offworld, options were limited.

Why a boutique feed called Tokyo Golden Age of Rawk should come through so clearly made no sense to him. Who even remembered this stuff? Music from pre-colony times, before the FDA had mandated the inclusion of subliminal mood enhancers into commercial recordings. Supposed to cure depression or some such nonsense.

As if, Gantry thought. People still wigged out. Did crazy, illogical shit. He was thrice-living proof.

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