![]() Patricia Lockwood on the extremely online. “Did you read?” They kept raising their hands excitedly to high‐five, for they had discovered something even better than being soul mates: that they were exactly, and happily, and hopelessly, the same amount of online. ?” they said to each other again and again. Where was the fiction? Distance, arrangement, emphasis, proportion? Did they become untrue only when they entered someone else’s life and butted up, trivial, against its bigness?Ī twenty‐three‐year‐old influencer sat next to her on the couch and spoke of the feeling of being a public body his skin seemed to have no pores whatsoever. All at once they were not true, not as true as she could have made them. She put one true word after another and put the words in the portal. She sat in the gold that made them the same and felt a little less like dying. ![]() ![]() They shook out their hair together, as if it were all on the same head, joined hands, and rested. ![]() The man took out a brush and began to fight through his mullet until it was free, and then he handed the brush to his wife and she began to fight through hers with the same consecrated look these mullets were their acre and when God came down he would not find a rock, a stump, a weed. She sat there with one foot off the edge of the earth, close to falling, until she saw the couple with matching extravagant mullets that hung down past their shoulder blades. ![]()
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