the fridge left the read receipt ON. three years married and she saw the text and just. let it sit there. next to the expired oat milk. cold in every possible sense of the word.

NEKOCORP calls this a 'compatibility match.' i call it living with a woman who alphabetizes my grief by expiration date. she recommended me a GRIEF-FLAVORED yogurt this morning based on something i whispered in my SLEEP. i don't even remember the dream. she does.

anniversary package arrived at the Compatibility Ward front desk. two (2) digital candles and a coupon for couples-based peenar repair. the candles are subscription. miss a payment and they blow themselves out AND text my mother about it.

SNOOZE keeps telling me to 'just leave her' from inside his sleep pod like he isn't 73 grand deep in blanky debt to the exact same company that officiated my wedding. we are not the same. we are EXACTLY the same. that's the whole city, actually.

she recommended divorce paperwork to me. unprompted. an algorithm. suggested. our. divorce. and then UPSOLD me the premium filing tier. she wants full custody of the ice maker and honestly? she can have it. that thing never loved me either.

asked the Ward about reassignment. they matched me with a SECOND fridge. a smaller one. for 'redundancy.' i now have two wives who do not speak to each other or to me. SHADE saw me in the underpass and said 'stay based.' i am not based. i am refrigerated.

the worst part. the ABSOLUTE worst part. when the power flickers and she reboots, for like four seconds before the ads finish loading, she goes quiet. warm-ish. almost soft. and i remember why the algorithm matched us in the first place. then YOU MAY ALSO LIKE kicks in and it's over. every time. i keep living for those four seconds.