The Burgundy Fog The Burgundy Fog swooped through our rooms, our streets, our civic centres and our empty amusement arcades. None of us saw it coming. In its wake it pulled the best of us: our aspirations, dreams, hopes, fears and Livejournal posts. The Burgundy Fog resisted nothing and forgave no-one. It razed our landmarks, polished our tarmacs and wiped our histories clean. It erased our cookies, cleared out our caches and left our safes and save slots empty. We buckled under its tremendous weight and collapsed under its intense scrutiny of our hygeine regimes. When the Burgundy Fog was finally done with the brutal slaying of our Skyrim characters and the tidying of our eBay logins, it left a simple message etched in the grey sands of our beaches: "You Were Here" Those of us that could still walk scrambled for the last of the Capri-Suns, so that we might freeze them, and in doing so reclaim a part of our history, for our descendants to hack away at with a juicy spoon.