Fb View Profile ~upd~ -

She locked the phone. Tossed it on the couch. Picked it up again. Considered deleting her entire account. Considered inventing a story: My cat walked on the keyboard. A glitch. A virus.

He might not check for days, she thought. Maybe he’ll never notice. fb view profile

Tap.

She jabbed the screen, but Facebook, in its infinite indifference, offered no undo. Only the mute, damning permanence of a view . He would see it. Not a notification—worse. A quiet little breadcrumb trail of her loneliness, left on his “Visitors” tab for him to find at 2 a.m. when he couldn’t sleep. She locked the phone

The profile loaded in a crisp, cruel instant. His face, three years older and thirty pounds lighter, smiled from a beach in Thailand. Beside him, a woman with sun-bleached braids and a silver nose ring rested her chin on his shoulder. Considered deleting her entire account

She set the phone down for real this time. Outside, a car passed, headlights sweeping across her empty living room.