Beneath the tree, a young woman cuffs her jeans and laughs into her phone. Tiffany studies her like an anthropologist. Unlike Tiffany, the laughing woman is real. Whomever she’s speaking to speaks back like they want to, and Tiffany envies her. She wonders if there’s a word for the opposite of solipsism, wonders if such a term could accurately describe her psychological disorder.
