Thresholds: "Echo Chamber" (6)
by VerseBuster
THRESHOLDS — A CYCLE IN TWELVE PARTS
In the system, an echo lingers,
though the microphone was severed long ago.
The circuit amplifies itself,
a signal unaware of its own interruption.
The algorithm scans the noise for patterns,
while the server, caught inside its latency,
replays a trace the database has already forgotten.
A shadow of a packet clings to the cache,
a fragment of code no process calls anymore.
A terminated thread still writes to the logs,
impulses without origin, finishing a sentence
no one began.
In a dead loop, a remnant instruction circles –
the echo of a function found in no library.
A conversation that refused to end
now hums as a rhythmic ghost
trapped in the machine’s cooling fans.
Where the wall meets the window, the logic blurs:
reverberation and afterimage collapse
into a single, trembling thrum.
The system – part glass, part bone –
keeps repeating what no longer exists,
a phantom frequency tuned to an emptied room.
I hear the difference now, inside the quiet:
an echo is not a voice,
only a memory trying to find its way out.