Nearly Civilized

**2048**. A young woman stands in a run-down alley on the edge of a flower petal, listening to the heater hum on the wall. A small lump forms on your throat. Is she going to take you to the other side? Or is she is an android begging for release from this mortal coil? The resulting vibration creates a *whining sound*. Rewind back to your previous thought. "You can call me whatever you want." She smiles, ready to hear you out. You try to come up with a counter-narrative. There is none. To hell with it -- this is correct.