I'll Try to Remember Your Face Next Time

Leria and i strolled along caravana street. Drone lights lit the way, faintly buzzing above our heads. Dust bots skimmed the ground, sucking in dust from the excessively clean pavement. For women like me, not a recipient of a wealthy heritage or large dividends, only finite stuff was left to reap. I used to rove around sundial sometimes aimlessly, sometimes in search of good music, beautiful paintings, free stuff to do and quiet spots to have inciteful chats with lyria.