The week after my dad died I got an email from him. It mentioned next week's game, my car's breakdown coming back from the funeral, Judie's good grades, and a new stock he thought I should buy.
It was spam, not ghosts. Everywhere databases were being bought and sold; mix the data with his old emails and you could easily come up with something like that. Targeted spam was nothing new. Just another ad.
But it also had the quiet cadence of his words, and his unobtrusive, loving interest in me. The things I hadn't realized how much I would miss.
I bought the stock. If the spammers made money, perhaps they'd send me more.
.finis.
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5 comments:
That's... almost disturbing. I mean, personalized spam? I'm a chick usually getting emails about viagra and making myself longer...
I've never gotten personalized spam. This was kind cool, though, and very realistic.
This was really chilling and touching all at once. I think I'm gonna be turning this over in my mind all day.
That was absolutely chilling. Humanity in the Information Age...
*hugs the narrator and tries gently to convince them Not To Buy!*
Oh shit. Oh shit. Troublingly plausible. It's like the human brain is more a self-deception machine than anything else, cognition merely incidental.
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And that is why you're a scarier man than me, and always will be. I'm thinking Lifeboxes, you're thinking ... this.
*hugs narrator*
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