Glances from the Year 2120
When I arrived in 2120, I was struck by the smell of rain on synthetic pavement. It had that metallic edge, so unlike the real streets of 2022. I met Nora at The Gilded Past, a café where old world photographs adorned the holographic walls. She told me about her father's tales of the digital migrations, when people first moved their consciousness into virtual expanses.
We sat by the window, watching pedestrians in light suits that could adapt to weather shifts in a blink. My coffee tasted like an experience—a blend of memories and simulations. "Do you think time travelers have a different taste?" Nora mused, her eyes reflecting the neon skyline.
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