[COMPLETED]
[WATTYS 2022 WINNER]
James Quinn can't die. Actually... that's not true. He's died many times - somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 - only to be reborn as himself to live his life over again.
For millennia, he's had to endure this c...
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As they continued toward the Eiffel Tower, Martha felt somewhat relieved by the relative simplicity of James' romantic gesture. Not every date has to be a Rube Goldberg machine with M. Night Shyamalan plot twists.
They reached the base of the Tower and Martha couldn't help but feel awe struck. She'd stood before taller buildings, but this was different. It wasn't a skyscraper – the massive square pegs of concentrated capitalism planted efficiently, side by side in their square holes. The Eiffel Tower stood out and apart from the metropolis surrounding it. As with Martha's flower, it didn't need profit's justification. And unlike the imposing skyscrapers, standing over the populace like bouncers meant to scare off the meek, the Eiffel Tower's parabolic shape reached down and outward, inviting all to join in a celebration of human potential.
Martha and James found the line for the elevator. It was significantly shorter than when they'd visited during their first week in Paris. A sign above the entrance explained why, reading in French and English:
Top floor closed 25/5
When it was their turn, Martha and James boarded the elevator and found a place in the back of the car. The attendant, a young woman, dressed like a stewardess and wearing bright red lipstick, gave the group her scripted welcome then closed the door and activated the elevator. They began their diagonal ascent up the North leg.
At the first floor, the attendant reminded everyone that the top was closed and only those with tickets to the Jules Verne restaurant on the second floor were allowed to continue. Half of the car emptied, but Martha and James remained. At the second floor, the attendant thanked the remaining passengers and asked them to exit the car for the restaurant. Everyone complied, but then James gently squeezed Martha's hand.
She turned her head to him in surprise – but come on, not really...
"You!" Martha accused, narrowing her eyes but failing to contain her smile.
"Me?"
"You lied!"
"When did I lie? You asked if I made dinner reservations. I said yes. I never said where."
The doors closed and once again they climbed. The attendant wore the grin of someone in on a juicy secret. Martha returned the smile politely and decided to wait to interrogate her immortal lover until they had some privacy. But I gotta know... How the hell did he do it? They'd been together their entire time in Paris. He may have known the attendant or whoever else was party to the conspiracy in former lives, but none of them would remember. Any good will he'd built up would've evaporated as soon as he reentered the void.
The elevator reached the top and Martha and James thanked the attendant as they stepped out from the elevator. There, an older man greeted them. He had a pencil mustache and wore the men's version of the attendant's uniform.
