Champagne tinted evenings fade, as they do, into brandy-colored nights. Amber nights and fireplaces for the hell of it, me and Hanne settling in for a little bit of warmth for that last hour, not quite decadence and a ways off from opulence, but still a plush couch and a fire and snifters slightly too full of liquor.
We share our warmth and we continue to talk, talking of the year past, of years past beyond that, and of however many we decide would lay ahead of us. A hundred years? Two hundred? Only five? I argue passionately for five more years of life before I quit, then laugh, change my mind, and say I’ll never die. Hanne says she’ll live for precisely two hundred before quitting her instance and disappearing from Lagrange. She’ll fork at a century and never speak to that version of her again, that exact duplicate, and should that instance decide to live on past two centuries, so be it, but she’d decided her expiration.
- - +NOTES
+We share our warmth (How are they sitting in space?) and we continue to talk, talking of the year past, of years past beyond that, and of however many we decide would layare ahead of us. A hundred years? Two hundred? Only five? I argue passionatelydemand for five more years of life before I quit, then laugh, change my mind, and say I’ll never die. Hanne says she’ll live for precisely two hundred before quitting her instance and disappearing from Lagrange, give up, and disappear from Lagrange. She’ll fork at a century and never speak to that version of her again, that exact duplicate, and should that instance decide to live on past two centuries, so be it, but she’d decided her expiration.
+NOTES
I scoff. “What? And leave me behind?”
“Of course. Can you imagine six score years with someone? Absolutely miserable.” She rests her head on my shoulder and shrugs. “We’re a ways off from that, I think I still like you now.”
“You think?” I drape my arm around her shoulders. “Still not sure?”