Hard Drive

Dear dubious Sir/Madam,

Unbeknown to you in this present moment is that this antique that is my former hard drive holds little more than my ramblings and creations. Some of what you find will make little sense to the naked eye but I beg you not to analyse my thoughts for you won’t get very far.

Don’t be scared. I can tell you now that my every thought is not plagued with only the thoughts that the world is unjust, that the cure to cancer is trapped within the brain of a person who cannot afford an education, or that an apple a day will keep anyone away if thrown hard enough. Nor does my inner monologue speak in such a monotonous tone as you might expect from reading this, or any of my other musings.

In fact, I also have a sense of humor and a thirst to play with the fire in my eyes (in case language is long lost in 2214, I am speaking of my passion) that is perhaps not represented in my somewhat dreary written thoughts. Perhaps you would find greater comfort in my artwork? It’s not all monochrome there. I swear.

Nevertheless, enjoy what you read and find to the best of your ability and, I beg you, pray not tamper.



The year is 2214, and your computer’s dusty hard drive has just resurfaced at an antique store. Write a note to the curious buyer explaining what he or she will find there.


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