"I know a little place," Angelina hints, "I think it will do just fine for our purposes." Angelina pulls the transposer away from your skin and instructs you to turn into the city. "We're going to see a little matinee on Bishop Street!" You catch Angelina's broad smile in the mirror as she falls back into the seat, toying with the device she holds.
You still try to protest dodgily, "Are you sure about that Angelina? I mean, shouldn't we lay low for a while? We could go back to my place or yours and...." You're about to be cut off mid-sentence. You can feel it so you surrender early.
Angelina frowns and returns to lean against your seat, resting her head on your shoulder. "Scott, how long do you want to live?" She asks quietly. Her question echoes to unexpected to answer. "How long? Sixty? Seventy? Eighty years?" She carries on in more pondering details, "Now wonder how long any of us really do have to live. We don't know. We never know. Could be gone an hour from now. So don't you think we should live for the hour? Make the most of what we have while we still have it from the first second to the very last? You know it's what we have to do, and this just makes life so much sweeter." Angelina holds the matter transposer under your nose.
"Okay," you agree. There's no use in arguing anymore. Angelina's persuasion is overpowering. You simply navigate the narrow city streets toward the destination. The sign ahead reads Bishop Street and Angelina directs you to turn, and soon the facade of the performing center is beside your window. Unfortunately, there's not a parking space in sight.
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