No One Is Talking About This: A Novel

She put one true word after another and put the words in the portal. All at once they were not true, not as true as she could have made them.

It was a mistake to believe that other people were not living as deeply as you were. Besides, you were not even living that deeply.

It spoke of something deep in human beings, how hard she had to pinch herself when she started thinking of it all as a metaphor.

the doctor who must have felt a ping in her lower belly the moment we lost the Supreme Court,

Previously these communities were imposed on us, along with their mental weather. Now we chose them—or believed that we did. A person might join a site to look at pictures of her nephew and five years later believe in a flat earth.

The doors of bland suburban houses now looked possible, outlined, pulsing—for behind any one of them could be hidden a bright and private glory.

Mostly, though, it passed into you, you, you, you, until she had no idea where she ended and the rest of the crowd began.

She was handling it just fine, even though her face had been replaced by one question mark after another question mark after another question mark,

This did not feel like real life, exactly, but nowadays what did?