He shouldn't look at the window, the text on the screen updated in real-time. There is nothing in the garden but the things he’s tried to forget.
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As the sun began to bleed gold over the horizon, the file on his desktop finally grew. From 0KB to 1KB, then 1MB, then more. When the final period hit the page, the zip file vanished. He shouldn't look at the window, the text
The screen flashed red. The text he typed vanished, replaced by a single, jagged paragraph: As the sun began to bleed gold over
Elias gripped the edge of his desk. He didn't look. Instead, he began to type, desperate to regain control of the narrative. Elias closed the laptop, he wrote. He went to bed and woke up to a perfectly normal Tuesday.
He froze. On the screen, the cursor pulsed like a heartbeat. He looked at his reflection in the darkened glass of the monitor. His digital self was still staring at the screen, but his real eyes had drifted toward the window.