The modem sings the song of your arrival. The old world fades with each page. Digital frost spreads across the network. |  | The desktop wallpaper watches back. The homepage is wherever you are. |
Every 404 is a door to somewhere else. Digital frost spreads across the network.  | The recycle bin is never truly empty. The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm. |  Your cookies remember what you've forgotten. The old world fades with each page. |