Absinthe Flights on Summer Nights

I really should not fly this low at night. But the experience of neon lights streaming by while blasting The Bumper Brothers with the smell of absinthe wafting through the cockpit really gets my fizzes whizzing. Good thing this ship can fly itself. My dance moves are prime right now and the thrusters are set on bloom. Two absinthes is usually my sweet spot but tonight I had three. Big deal. I lie down and lift the switch cover to the Relax-Rumbler, press the supple green button with a satisfying *click*, and sub bass washes through my chest and tingles my toes. The ship says: “Next Destination: Technicolor Glacier.”

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