Excerpt
"Hi, I'm Molly. Do I know you?"
I hit him with my smile and widen my eyes. I touch him on his cheek. He's weathered, but handsome, in a costume-party way, and with a beard. He's far from being a Californian. A Euro tech bro? Quiet, watchful, and with a feral quality, like a dog with no master.
"Now known," says he. "I'll message you a link to my lifebox. You may research how awesome is Anselm Saarikoski of Copenhagen. Product designer for the Finn Junkers. I'm sending you my link. Well known in cool circles. Junker is an old word that means young noble. We're not noble by family tree, but by—extreme excellence."
The soft plastic uvvy phone on the back of my neck twitches. Anselm has sent me a link to his cloud-based lifebox—the kind of personal database we used to call a home page. The word lifebox carries with it the buzzy hope that, as tech moves forward, we might someday have immortal online souls.