July 10, 1957. Just two days left to get Paul and John together. And probably less, I reminded myself, since I didn’t know what time of day tomorrow my app would suck me back into my own time. Tomorrow I was leaving the nineteen fifties for good.
I didn't know how I felt about that. Part of me missed 2157, when everything could be done with the touch of a button. But the other part of me knew once I was back, I would miss the nineteen fifties – the delicious meat hamburgers, the strange, specific etiquette, the way you had to go outside to experience things, and most of all Paul.
But if I...
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