by Hydrargentium

Sitting at the computer, she could feel the connections through the keyboard. Ten fingers on nine keys brought hints of images, impressions and sounds, swirling on the edge of her consciousness. It kind of felt like an almost-remembered moment, a crowd of moments, and it kind of felt like the build-up before a sneeze.

Staring at her screen, she focused on the pattern of swirled white noise that she used as her Facebook profile picture. It wasn’t her real profile, of course, just some random made-up name, Hargle Blargle, with thousands of likes and shares and games and as many fake friends as she could build up in the last month. Every single one of them was a connected to a real person in some way, and when she focused just right, she could reach out and touch any of them.

The pattern on her profile pic was just structured enough to give her something to focus on, but still random enough that she could forget about it while she stared. It helped her into a trance-like mindset, and after a minute or so — and it was getting easier and faster to get there every day — she felt her consciousness slide into the morass of interpersonal impressions.