All My Friends Are Fictional’s Reviews > Will There Ever Be Another You > Status Update
All My Friends Are Fictional
is on page 153 of 256
“When they […] lifted him into the ambulance, I could not think what to do, it was his life. My mouth was empty, and my brain was like the moment when the subtitles gap out — pure terror, what was happening, would I never understand anything again? Every gesture in the world was gone from my body. How do I tell him, I thought, how do I tell him? My husband, when I looked at him, was holding up finger hearts.”
— 9 hours, 2 min ago
Like flag
All My Friends’s Previous Updates
All My Friends Are Fictional
is on page 136 of 256
“The Great Flood must have had no idea, in the air, what it was there to do.
It wanted to wash us away. My father alone understood. He stood and pointed at the center pole. The camera framed him. Loaves and fishes seemed to shoot from a slit in his wrist — no, buns and bratwurst. "Twenty million volts!" he shouted. He glared at us, as if our inaction were the lightning bolt that would one day kill our mother.”
— 9 hours, 20 min ago
It wanted to wash us away. My father alone understood. He stood and pointed at the center pole. The camera framed him. Loaves and fishes seemed to shoot from a slit in his wrist — no, buns and bratwurst. "Twenty million volts!" he shouted. He glared at us, as if our inaction were the lightning bolt that would one day kill our mother.”
All My Friends Are Fictional
is on page 93 of 256
“Back to the business at hand: broadening horizons. "Have you ever felt sorry for a dish you didn't order?" I asked Angel. "Or shame at the thought of sitting at a table too large for you? Have you ever stood outside a brothel, marveling at your lack of desire? What does this sentence mean to you: The more closely you look at a word the more distantly it looks back?"”
— 19 hours, 31 min ago
All My Friends Are Fictional
is on page 88 of 256
“Why should a dog, a horse — a book — have life, and her no breath at all? I think I was crying; perhaps he was. What is this feeling, across people and cultures, that the dead recede from us not so much in time as in distance? "Never, never, never, never," and we said the last never together. To be in a real room again, all of us, breathing beneficent air.”
— 22 hours, 0 min ago
All My Friends Are Fictional
is on page 73 of 256
“The small body of sensation, when it washes itself, is so soft, so sweet, so unprotected. What do I do with it? I wanted to ask. I am holding it somehow, and it grows heavy in the arms — how do I tell it that's enough now, it's clean? Now my friend was opening her mouth, in the middle of a spotlight on a stage inside her chest; auditions for the self took place every morning at ten.”
— 22 hours, 13 min ago
All My Friends Are Fictional
is on page 73 of 256
“The cat turned and swept through the heavy red curtains that hung inside me. She must have known the Six Viewpoints already—space, story, time, emotion, movement, shape—for the fine fur along my back stood up and stirred, all the way to the tip of a tail.
[.] Now my friend was opening her mouth, in the middle of a spotlight on a stage inside her chest; auditions for the self took place every morning at ten.”
— 22 hours, 14 min ago
[.] Now my friend was opening her mouth, in the middle of a spotlight on a stage inside her chest; auditions for the self took place every morning at ten.”
All My Friends Are Fictional
is on page 39 of 256
"How many living cats do you have?" the man at the antique store asked her. "Three," she flirted, placing one elbow on the counter, "and the ashes of a dead one on the mantelpiece."
One night she was traveling down, down, through a million sheets of paper, to the center of the earth. She did not even know anyone else was alive. Something was bent around her neck, which might have been part of another person…”
— Nov 15, 2025 04:32AM
One night she was traveling down, down, through a million sheets of paper, to the center of the earth. She did not even know anyone else was alive. Something was bent around her neck, which might have been part of another person…”
All My Friends Are Fictional
is on page 20 of 256
“If she never formed another memory, then nothing could ever happen to her; if she never recognized another human face, she would never misplace another pair of blue eyes; if the weave of her had loosened to let time fall through at a more ecstatic velocity, maybe she would do nothing but rush and rush until the great gold boulder came and caught. It was fine, she had her hands in fresh water, washing.”
— Nov 15, 2025 04:09AM
All My Friends Are Fictional
is on page 16 of 256
“The sun consented to fall, for a time, through the particular patterns of their lace. It was terrible to be a tourist, she thought, but after death you didn't feel like a tourist anymore. You were a current of the air, you went everywhere. Into people's mouths and out. You woke up one morning and said long enough. Today we dig them up.”
— Nov 15, 2025 04:04AM
