Don’t Cry For Me, Elanthia
Oct28

Don’t Cry For Me, Elanthia

(27 October 2014: by Benjamin Breen at TheAppendix.net) What follows is a reconstruction of a lost archive. As our collective memories of virtual communities age—as we move from digital pasts stretching back a few years to ones stretching back decades—they begin to acquire the patina of nostalgia that comes with generational time. The internet is old now. Our memories of it are becoming old too. And experiences online that seemed...

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Torched By Midnight
Sep22

Torched By Midnight

The Landing beckoned me from somewhere in the past. Feeling the weight of memory upon my soul, I could not help but step through the gates. Even though the music was a bright ballad, it was a struggle to feel it within my very soul. What was warm, was too warm, what was familiar, scratched and tore at memories long protected by their own walls. My feet made their own way upon streets that somehow knew me. Not just the cobblestones,...

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Of All Ghosts …
Sep18

Of All Ghosts …

They were not my eyes, but they were all I had to see through. I could not keep my emotions from her, and that was unfortunate for her… The streets were dark. The crescent of a beautiful golden moon reflected in the damp street from the day’s rain. The town, not really a city proper, was full of old things that did not seem old. With my first step upon the cobblestones inside the city gates, I felt the weight of memory here....

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