Scrolling social media. Tons and tons of glossy girls, all blurring into one another, faceless copies.
The same plastic gloss, the same artificial scent.
Then, suddenly, a detail. A photo of Chloe Strawberry. I’d recognize those lips anywhere. And I wonder: does she know how many seconds are wasted without her hugs?
Maybe I’ll have a glass of hot milk, if you don’t mind.
