I was determined not to panic. It didn't work. One would think that passwords might magically appear in your mind when the Internet was being destroyed, and that within the given timeframe the hackers had provided, there would be time. You learn quickly that there is never enough time. I had always worried about my clumsy way of creating passwords -- one phrase here, add a number and character here, reverse the word there. You know what I mean, right? And now, with just three minutes left, and counting, to save what I could, I was at a loss to remember even the most basic elements of my system of invention. Cursing at my computer, I gave up. I started writing this. Knowing it, too, would soon be gone, disappeared, lost into the nether of the imploding Internet. I had one of those cartoony flashback scenes, where all of my videos and audio files and images and words come to me in Twitter-like stream, only to be gone when I reached for them. This story may be my last, so if you get it, please remember my passcode was your name and the day we met ...


by dogtrax


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