Only the files remain

An end-of-the-world — well, end-of-your-world, anyway — short story by Selena Larson.

The premise:

I am here for your story. You died without one, though your voice may have gone silent long before your heart did. Valuable data is distributed among the blurry photos and status updates you left behind. It is my duty to purge it.

I feel for the poor soul who has to wade through my 31 years (so far) of online archives. My browser history alone will be daunting.

Late-night creepiness

If I ever ask myself “Self, what would happen if you plunged Florence Welch into Carnival of Souls?” I’ll have this answer waiting for me:

Song: wonderful. Video ambiance: more than a little disturbing.