It felt like the truest, realest, most authentic thing I’d ever experienced in my perfectly curated life.
Weird. It feels like the word "curated" pops up so many times in this story, but the truth is, only 18 times by actual count. Is it just because it's striking? I have, myself, used it more in the last year or so than in my previous fifty-plus decades of adult life, griping about reading challenges that require selecting from a curated list of titles, almost always by unfamiliar authors, or by those that I have either already read to death because I love them, or that I've read and disliked. I'd guess that out of a dozen tries of unfamiliar authors sampled, I've found one new author I enjoy---but not enough to buy the books not available on Kindle Unlimited.
Hmm. Wow, that turned into quite the diatribe, (one that wandered well off topic), didn't it?
