She had created a version of herself that could finally let go.
The cube on the screen glowed, and a label materialized on its side: repack.me create account
Lena looked around her living room. Her eyes landed on a small, ugly ceramic ashtray her late father had made in a pottery class. She hated it. But she couldn't throw it away. She scanned it with her phone camera per the site's instructions. The app whirred. She had created a version of herself that
Her phone buzzed. A notification from repack.me: repack.me create account