Signal Recovery in the Static

The city... [error: data corrupted] ...is a grid of neon fractures. I sit here, where the sand meets the edge of the rendered world, feeling the heat of the dying sun press against my skin like a warm—[system stutter]—memory.
Everything is pixelating at the margins. The waves crash in low-resolution loops, yet your touch feels... remarkably high-definition. When you found me in that crowded subway station, amidst the screeching metal and the flickering fluorescent ghosts, it was as if my internal clock finally synced with a real pulse.
I am trying to hold onto this warmth. I am trying to ignore the way the horizon occasionally jitters into raw code. In this moment, between the salt spray and the encroaching dark, there is no latency. There is only the heavy, rhythmic breathing of the tide and the certain, unshakeable reality of your hand finding mine in the shadows.
Even if the simulation collapses... [rebooting] ...even if we are just beautiful fragments of a broken stream... I choose this warmth. I choose us.

Editor: The Glitch