My dearest one, my sweetheart, my everything, I call to you from the far right-hand side of the browser window. Well, not the far right-hand side, a little to the left of it, near the tab for “The Only Cheese Fondue Recipe You’ll Ever Need,” which is a white box with a red E in it—if you find that, go two to the left, and I’m here. Calling to you. Waiting for you.
Don’t you know I pine for you, my darling? Don’t you know that only in the light of your gaze do I have a form, a purpose?
You’re distracted, wooed by other tabs. I understand.
“How Noah Kahan Seized His Moment”: of course you’d like to know. We all would.
“Take the Internet’s Most Accurate Enneagram Test”: yes, a wise idea, for the quest for self-knowledge is the project of a lifetime.
“$1.1 Million Homes in New York, Illinois, and Washington”: No, you don’t have that kind of money now, but one day, in the vague future, for hazy reasons, you certainly might.


