Dear Sir or Madam or Android of non specific gender,
You now hold in your possession an object that was extremely precious to me in its lifetime until it was superceded by a superior model. I am convinced where you are from in the future that data no longer needs to be stored on disks or hard drives or as we fondly used to call the portable ones, memory sticks. Along with servant robots and hover skateboards and cloning we have long anticipated the time when we would be able to instantly download information directly to our brains and thus be able to recall it and know it instantly.
Therefore this dusty hard drive you have encountered in a random antique store will seem incredibly dated. Indeed you may have purchased said item for its purely decorative value.
Perhaps it will sit on a floating shelf alongside your other knick knacks. I confess this would be anathema to me. This hard drive is imprinted with my personality. It holds in some shape or other my hopes and dreams.
My unfinished novels (sadly I doubt I ever got around to finishing one) are held on it along with other articles I created I hoped would be newsworthy enough for publication also some dire poetry you would do well to skip over.
There will be family photographs from before the time British citizens were banned from having more than 2 children. In some of these photos depending on bodily fatness at the time, I may appear. I will be the dark haired bespectacled one in the corner probably holding a child in front of me.
If you are knowledgeable enough to access my Google search history you may find reference to Netflix and a certain Benedict Cumberbatch. I make no apologies for that although you will have no idea who he was. Let’s just say he was a popular actor of the time. You will also encounter many references to social media sites such as Facebook, Twitter and Pinterest. These were a cultural means of entertainment in our times. They were by and large a waste of time…..
It is time for me to bid you adieu now but I hope you have enjoyed your trip down my memory lane.
Yours in conventional goodbye