A voracious burst of fire, threads of yellow flame writhing, grasping at any living flesh, an intense blue heat engulfing him, Nik slowly drifts away from the flames, away from the flames awaiting his breath. As his eyes gently part, he can still see wisps of flames dancing around him. As his hand moves across his face, ashes fall from his desiccated skin.
— There are 25 letters!
— No, 26
— 1… 2… … 25!
My first computer was an old Compaq that my dad built on a languid summer weekend. The keyboard was a 90’s beige with large clacking keys and a distinct set of logos decorating the border. The monitor was an oversized CRT—heavy, but fragile.
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