New York had many claims to fame, but one of them was its absolutely terrible traffic.
Thanks to the generous salary and benefits at the Mutant Power Research Institute, Miss Salvador Bohuszuk, the "Angel," could now afford to take a taxi to work in Manhattan from time to time.
At that moment, Fifth Avenue was once again jammed up like a tangled clump of hair in a sewer. Watching the dollar amount on the meter keep climbing, Salvador decided to get out immediately and run to the institute.
She was hoping to save some money with this steady, well-paying job and buy a little house in the suburbs—something she once wouldn't have dared even dream of.
She kicked off her seven- or eight-centimeter heels and carried them in her hand. Then the "Angel" set off on tiptoe, nimbly weaving through the congested, narrow lanes.
If only she could bare the wings on her back and soar freely above the city, going wherever she pleased, like a fairy in a storybook.
But reality was that this fairy was just a prostitute who had once frequented filthy alleyways and midnight bars.
Salvador had hinted to Darwin before that getting to work at the institute was always inconvenient for her, and that it was hard to find a taxi near her home.
Mr. Darwin had only stammered out some stiff, clumsy suggestions. He was practically a block of wood. But perhaps he was just smart enough not to get involved with a woman like her that way.
On the way to work, stuck in traffic, the "Angel" let her thoughts run wild. In the end, she only managed to make herself feel stifled and downhearted. When she finally reached the entrance to S.H.I.E.L.D., she put her rather uncomfortable "sky-high heels" back on.
Even