With the extended note of a bosun's pipe, the eerie whistle engulfs New New York, bringing in the new year. You can't believe that it is now the year 2286.
Having just turned 50, your uncherished youth seems wasted, as you stumble through the night trying to forget it all, intoxicated on Sirian Ale and White Calf Shots. The neon green lights from local shops call to you in their drunken blur through the fog on this eeiry night.
One shop in particular stood out. "R&H Robotics and Technology" it stands, hovering with a slight buzz over the establishment it is tagging. The interior is blackened and without light. It is owned by your former lover, whom you had left mere days before from both relationship troubles, and legal worries. While his specialty was building protonic turbines for inter-galactic travel, he had dabbled in such endeavors as time manipulation and re-animation.
Being quite drunk, you stumble to the door and bang on it. He sleeps in the back room, you figure he has to be there. Each bang an expression of your anger and frustration towards him, of your inability to cope with what happened. As your hand slides down the side of the glass door, tears streaming down your face, it hits the thumb-plate on the side, evaporating the glass for you to enter. He hadn't changed the lock!