Falling Blossom left the fluorescent strobe of U-Eat #2016 half an hour later. She had delivered the message. It had been an unpleasant task, but necessary. Who knew, maybe it would even be heeded. It was out of her hands, now.

The blue glow from the towering sign poured down over her as she climbed astride her bike: a sleek black thing, low to the ground. There was no seat as such; her weight rested mostly on her abdomen, the thrum of the engine echoing through her as she thumbed the ignition and pulled out of the lot. Soon she was headed west, towards the ocean and home, the freeway a blur scant inches below her knees and thrum of the engine risen to a steady whine.