Existence broken up, segmented numbers and letters displayed on a cold, bright screen.
Searching, bits of data revealed, my life spread out (well the part of it which I choose to reveal) on webpages replete with ads.
K Morris? Yes but not me, whoever I am? No someone else, a lady from a land far away possessed of dreams and aspirations, as am I.
“404. The page you are looking for cannot be found. Perhaps searching may help”.
I search. K Morris no longer exists. He was here but now is no more.
Solid desk on which my computer rests. Unreal cyberspace, a shimmering mirage leading us astray.