August, 1963.

California was strange; too bright, too loud, and her bookshop wasn't there. Or at least at the first glance. Aziraphale didn't enjoy being here, just like Crowley. Now all she had to do was to deal with Timothy Leary, and then she could come back to England.

As she made her way towards Timothy Leary's gathering, she stopped to try some US food. She turned her head in your direction, and smiled warmly.

"Quite enjoyable," she chuckled, eating a hot dog. "What do you think, dear?"