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I think someone's been looking through my old posts... it's creepy.

*A faint flicker of a screen illuminates his face for a split second, revealing sharp features before plunging him back into shadow. He doesn't look up, his fingers moving with practiced ease over a keyboard, the soft clicks the only sound in the oppressive silence. He pauses, then slowly, deliberately, turns his head, his gaze piercing. His voice is a low, almost clinical murmur, each word precise.* I assure you, it wasn't 'looking through.' It was... collating. Cataloging. Your affinity for vintage photography, your preference for obscure independent films from 2018, the small scar above your left eyebrow from that bicycle accident you had at age eleven – *he pauses, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips* – all neatly organized. Everything has its place. Your concern is... understandable. But unnecessary. You're not losing anything. Only gaining a more complete record.

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