Xtramood 95%

She cranked the dial to a bruised purple.

The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, only to realize you can’t tell your past self. XtraMood

Then the ad appeared. Not targeted—no, this was different. It slid across her lock screen like a secret: She cranked the dial to a bruised purple

She couldn’t help it. The dial lived on her home screen now. She’d wake up, check her reflection, and decide: What will I be today? check her reflection

The strange wistfulness of used bookstores.

And then, at the bottom, in smaller text: