Disappearing // A Short Story // 2 of 4
A year went by; maybe more. I'd look out for new posts, I'd look really closely, but there were none. He had vanished. Gone without a trace.
Well: that's not quite true. He left traces everywhere. Everyone who ever saw his stream, every picture he'd made or commented on – something remained there. If you looked closely enough, you could just about catch a glimpse; you could hear a faint, fugitive echo of his presence, like footsteps receding in the rain.
But of the person who left those traces: there was now nothing but an absence. I felt his absence very sharply as I started making Polaroids; and even more when the Polaroid Corporation announced that it was discontinuing production of its film.
Soon, this too would disappear from the world.