Bridge Yokohama
Once upon a time, or every time, there was a spaceport Yokohama, and within it a place called Bridge, or the Bridge.
It was a small town, one long road in length, that may remind someone of a more upscale, but somehow still sleazy, Las Vegas. Had they ever been to Las Vegas.
Two young blondes, appearing to be in their mid-20s were they on Earth, had both been to Las Vegas, and were both of this opinion.
They were also both reporters.
They were other things, too, but both reporters.
Leaning against the Bridge's club's bar, they were joking animatedly at each other, laughing about clothing. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary about the two until someone stepped on the man's foot and the woman jumped, but they both laughed it off quickly enough.
"You know, you can't be doing that," he says.
"Well, you didn't react and it hurt--"
"Proximity's a curse," said the young man.
She nods, and notes her arm grabbed by another taller man, dark. Laughing, the young woman accepts his invitation, and leaves the blonde man alone.
If, by any chance, anyone had gone to Roswell, New Mexico, to rescue a fellow named Michael from a room that happened to be white, this young man's appearance would be easily recognizable.
It was a small town, one long road in length, that may remind someone of a more upscale, but somehow still sleazy, Las Vegas. Had they ever been to Las Vegas.
Two young blondes, appearing to be in their mid-20s were they on Earth, had both been to Las Vegas, and were both of this opinion.
They were also both reporters.
They were other things, too, but both reporters.
Leaning against the Bridge's club's bar, they were joking animatedly at each other, laughing about clothing. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary about the two until someone stepped on the man's foot and the woman jumped, but they both laughed it off quickly enough.
"You know, you can't be doing that," he says.
"Well, you didn't react and it hurt--"
"Proximity's a curse," said the young man.
She nods, and notes her arm grabbed by another taller man, dark. Laughing, the young woman accepts his invitation, and leaves the blonde man alone.
If, by any chance, anyone had gone to Roswell, New Mexico, to rescue a fellow named Michael from a room that happened to be white, this young man's appearance would be easily recognizable.