Actually, not fear of losing it so much as fear of losing them. Some ten years of digital photos (plus assorted translations, stories, poems, and other memories) stored on an external hard drive which is currently refusing to boot.
There comes a point, of course, where you have to admit that the past does disappear and this is just something you have to deal with.
I am currently taking comfort in the idea that “Nothing is lost for ever […] except for the Cathedral of Chalesm”, coupled with the fact that the little blue light still comes on when I connect the disk, so perhaps it is not altogether dead.
Some more recent photos, including this one, have not been lost: 
don't confuse the narrator 
Your post is both profound and beautiful.
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Thank you!
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I learnt at a very early age that back-ups are essential. 7 hours typing into a ZX81 followed by a slight table-knock which frizzt the lot does that to you.
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The problem is that these were the back-ups. The originals have gone the way of all data. I do – probably – have some of them on old DVDs, but that means crossing my fingers and hoping the old computer is still alive.
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