"Sounds from the future and the past, warm summer nights at the arcade, computerized horizons. Pink neon light, unstuck in time, between the memories of yesteryear and retrofuturistic fantasies."
"Plastic hearts, fake champagne, skin that cannot feel the rain. A perfect symphony of hollow broken sympathies. Almost feeling something here, she could synthesize the tears. Left looking over her shoulder, night after night, over and over."
—Cara Keeps Running
