You click again.
Not on the hard drive. In you .
You try to remember your mother's phone number—the one you've dialed since you were twelve. Nothing. A blank, smooth wall where the digits used to be. You try to recall the name of your first pet. A soft, warm null .
Behind you, the front door opens. A voice calls your name—familiar, but the data associated with it is already corrupted. You turn, smiling, but you don't know why you're smiling.
You click again.
Not on the hard drive. In you .
You try to remember your mother's phone number—the one you've dialed since you were twelve. Nothing. A blank, smooth wall where the digits used to be. You try to recall the name of your first pet. A soft, warm null .
Behind you, the front door opens. A voice calls your name—familiar, but the data associated with it is already corrupted. You turn, smiling, but you don't know why you're smiling.