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I woke to a knock at the door.
The morning sunbeams streamed in through the master bedroom’s large rustic windows and bathed us in light. I peeked over at my wife and admired the soft curves of her lips.
Slowly, the rest of the cabin began to rustle awake.
Barely audible waking yawns of my two young daughters merged with my own as I stretched to the heavens and rose to my feet.
The aroma of roasted coffee wafted down the hallway as I heard a second knock. I wondered who it could be this early, here in the middle of the forest. Getting away from it all is why we’d been coming here for years.
No one was within ten feet of the front door other than a deer that had made its way onto the lawn. It made eye contact with me for a moment before I looked away.
I must have been at the door longer than I realized because my wife was already fully dressed and in the kitchen when I returned.
She smiled and extended her arms, and I responded with a loving embrace. Gently, she pulled my face away from hers and paused, staring at me thoughtfully. She tilted her head and offered a sympathetic smile.
“Was it the same one? The same nightmare?”
“How did you know?”
“You were tossing and turning again. All night.”
I considered avoiding the discussion altogether, but could only manage an awkward hesitation before conceding.
“We’re all together, on a plane. It was... awful. There were explosions and screams, metal crunching, flames all around us… I saw the girls first, with a look of pure terror, waiting for me to save them. Then the boy — a wrinkled look of dread, confusion and hope. I locked him into my arms while you protected the girls. You and I were holding hands when in an instant, you were gone, just ripped away from us then... blackness.”
She bit her lip and then gave me that loving and reassuring look I’d seen a thousand times before.
“It was a nightmare, sweetheart. Nothing more.”
“I want you to look at something,” she whispered.
“Hmm?”
“It’s new. It’s called Memoriam™.”
She activated two brochures that playfully bounced onto the display table.
“Our patented AI technology allows you to keep your family safe forever,” a feminine artificial voice began.
“What is this?”
“It’s a new kind of personality-scanning technology — a way to preserve us in the event of an accident, like the ones you’ve been dreaming. It’s not the first time Ben. I think it might help put your mind at ease… maybe get you over what’s bothering you.”
My eyebrows raised.
“Listen,” she said softly. The display continued.
“By using advanced voice cloning and deepfake technology, coupled with social media data harvesting, we can recreate your loved one’s digital selves in the event of untimely and potentially traumatic loss.”
Without warning, the entire cabin rattled violently.
“What was that? Did you feel that?”
“What was what? I didn’t feel anything. Ben, promise me you’ll look at this.”
“I promise.”
The room suddenly grew dark. I glanced outside to discover the blue skies replaced by charcoal-colored clouds. As I looked back at the kitchen table I noticed that my wife was no longer there. The display continued.
“The problem is you. He can’t seem to reconcile the two realities.”
The display’s soft demure voice had been replaced by an older-sounding man’s deep monotone cadence. His words carried a defeated tone.
“I can’t just stop trying”, another man’s voice replied.
My young son suddenly ran into the room as I heard another knock at the door, so I made my way to investigate and the boy followed. As I peered out of the door’s window I could only see an empty front porch again.
“Who is it?” my son asked. I turned to answer him, but he had vanished. Instinctively, I opened the front door to a middle-aged, kindly-looking stranger. He looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t quite place him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He paused and then with strained effort, finally began talking to me.
“None of it was your fault”, he said softly. “I don’t blame you and I want you to know that.”
I continued to study his face, hoping to recognize something. He continued.
“I’m… I’m married now. We’ve talked and we both want you back. We can be a family again.”
He shows me a baby girl. He says he named her after my wife.
“It’s been twenty years. We agreed that this place has had its purpose but… we let it go on for too long. Please… stop hiding here.”
What is this nonsense he’s going on about?
“No, I think you have the wrong man,” I said.
“DAD!” he exclaimed. “Dad listen - it’s not your fault we’re still here and they aren’t. We can remember them together.”
I examined his worried face… something about the wrinkle of his nose reminded me of something.
But it passed.
“No. You need to go away.”
The man continued to plead with me, but I ignored it and shook my head dismissively.
“No. You go away now. And don’t come back.”
I thought I heard him starting to sob as I shut the door.
The moment it closed, my boy was right beside me again. I was happy to have him there. He looked up at me with a glowing smile.
“I love you, papa.”
I could see the rest of the family moving into the living room. The girls and my wife danced together.
I just knew it was going to be another beautiful day.
“I love you too, son.”
I gazed out of the window and could no longer see the stranger. Up above, golden rays of sunlight broke through the darkness.
Just then, the sky seemed to flicker.
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Segmentation Fault
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