"They look like contraptions made out of garbage, don't they?" I ask of the art.
"What? No, Andrea. It's art. Found objects, you know."
The opening is for the hottest new artistic talent New Rome has to offer. Even though Austin warned me it was a formal event, when we arrive I'm surprised to find that it's a gala affair packed with the artist's many wealthy patrons and admirers.
Good thing we wear our best. Austin is in black tie and I'm wearing a bot-made dress. Even though it's completely machine-made, I'm pleased with the gown. It's a shimmering gold that falls to the floor, and is embedded with yellow diamonds and tiny light emitting diodes clustered around my heart. They pulse in time with my heartbeat. Wearing it makes me feel as if perhaps I haven't spent the last week lying in
