by JCAldred
A museum attendant has worked in the basement archive for seventeen years, cataloging items and maintaining the collection. But as time becomes increasingly unclear and his memories fragmentary, he begins to notice inconsistencies: items cataloged but never found, handwriting in journals he doesn't remember writing, and a collection that seems to grow without explanation. When he discovers his own catalog number, he understands: the basement doesn't preserve artifacts. It preserves people. And everyone who has ever worked here, everyone who has ever gotten lost in its corridors, is still here. Still cataloging. Still waiting. A story about the dissolution of identity, the nature of preservation, and the terrible cyclical nature of being consumed by the system you maintain.
