We live in an age of digital ghosts. Late last year, my friend Darren died unexpectedly. We had spoken a few weeks before his death and made vague plans to meet on what would turn out to be the day after his last on earth. I’ve thought about him often since then. I can still hear his voice, that languid drawl indicative of an East Texas upbringing. His contact information remains in my phone; I can’t bring myself to delete it. As a result, I got a notification earlier today that he had joined Telegram. It was a gut punch. Of course, he didn’t just sign up. Rather, the person who received his discontinued number from the phone company did. It’s made me think about the digital traces of ourselves we leave behind and the technological artifacts that those who live on maintain. His contact details are still in my phone. Damn, I miss him.