Dad bought a Bugatti, and Mom reluctantly loved it more than her old BMW. I remember she said she felt like she was cheating on an archaic thing for the newer model and it felt wrong. Cars aren’t people, love. They don’t have feelings. You’re cheating on nothing. That’s what my dad said. After that, I wrote a sci-fi story on Fictitious about sentient cars with feelings in a futuristic society. They’re not exactly people, but they have a consciousness. Kinda like Herbie and Transformers, but with a Battlestar Galactica feel.
