Elias tried to click the "X," but the button moved away from his cursor. Every time he tried to close the prompt, the "other" Elias in the mirror grew closer to the screen, his face pressing against the glass from the inside. The bruising purple light from the progress bar began to leak from the edges of his monitor, staining his desk.
He pulled out his phone. A new file had been pushed to his cloud storage. User_Archive_01.rar Madui‮.rar
He didn't open it. He didn't have to. He could already feel himself becoming smaller, more compact, as if the very air around him were being compressed into a more manageable, space-saving package. Elias tried to click the "X," but the
Suddenly, the WinRAR trial notification popped up on the screen, masking the mirror image. Evaluation period has expired. Please purchase a license. He pulled out his phone
In the digital room, the "other" Elias wasn't looking at the monitor; he was looking at the actual Elias through the glass of the screen. He held up a small, physical piece of paper. On it, written in shaky handwriting, were the words: “Don’t archive me.”
Panicked, Elias grabbed the power cord and yanked it from the wall.