The edges of the world fold up like a fern and her vision tunnels, surrounded by grey swirling shapes whispering the names of everyone she's lost so far. There will always be more names she hasn't met yet, more names to be added, more names to be laughed into the air as if their passing was a joke.
She felt fine - honestly.
It was just that the world was slowly collapsing in on her, on itself, and gracefully falling into the inescapable void that had already swallowed so many people that the news thought the rapture must be coming. If only it was that simple.
See, there's a finite amount of memory in the universe and when that memory is full it begins to empty itself til nothing is left and the cycle starts again. Nobody else seemed to realise this but her and a handful of others at first, though most of them are now gone alongside a third of the world's population leaving them all with nothing but questions, questions and yet more questions.
She tries not to think too much about it, just carries on as best as she can and hopes it will be her turn before the world itself goes. The thought of dying in the cold nothingness of space is far more terrifying for her than the though of reuniting with everyone else in a new nothingness instead.
The shapes, she thinks, must be leftover information. Like when you delete an old file but the installation program and DLL files are still lurking unseen, clogging the system and waiting for a re-installment that will never come.
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