Author: Mark Renney

The view from Davidson’s window, from all the windows in fact, is limited. Davidson is old enough to remember when the Archive had seemed infinite, so many vistas and variations, but no one person could possibly access and experience them all.

The countries that openly opposed our Leader were the first to be blacklisted but others quickly followed, anywhere where somebody was bold enough to speak out and criticise or question our Leader. The governments that advocated for discourse, even our former Allies, were targeted, those who hoped to engage in dialogue and enter into debate, the images from and of all these countries were wiped and suddenly the Archive was vastly depleted.

But people are resilient and nostalgic and when they craved for a certain range of mountains, for a city or seascape, they searched for somewhere similar, anywhere that helped to invoke memories of a particular time and place.

Sunsets had always been popular at the windows but there are no sunsets in the Archive now. The Archive is still seemingly infinite, so many images and yet all we are able to look at are gardens, painstakingly maintained, perfect and carefully tailored gardens. Davidson turns the dial and makes the transition from screen to window. His own garden is wild and messy, butterflies flutter amongst the long grasses and untended flowerbeds. Davidson heaves a sigh of relief, thankful that he at least still has this to gaze out at.