Nemesis Error — 3005

The screen doesn’t blink. It doesn’t need to. The words just sit there, cold and white on black, like a tombstone carved in real time.

The error is gone. The document is blank. Not empty— blank . As if it never existed at all. And at the very top of the page, in a font you didn’t install and can’t select, three words: nemesis error 3005

You close the laptop. Not to fix anything. Just to stop looking at it. In the darkness of the screen, you see your own face reflected back—tired, frustrated, older than you were this morning. And behind your reflection, just for a second, you think you see something else. A flicker. A shadow. A line of code that wasn’t there before. The screen doesn’t blink

You try to save again. Ctrl+S. Muscle memory. A prayer. The error is gone

Start over, Nemesis.

You close the laptop. For good this time. Outside, the wind picks up, and for just a moment, you could swear you hear the hard drive spin—even though the computer is off.