Fox in the Feed

Maya pulled her beanie **hat** down to her eyebrows, hoping it would somehow make her invisible. The house party thumped around her—cheap bass, too-strong perfume, laughter that sounded like everyone had inside jokes she'd never get. She'd spent three hours getting ready, then immediately wished she hadn't come.

Her **iphone** burned in her pocket, her lifeline. She'd already doomscrolled through three empty group chats and watched twelve strangers' stories rather than actually talk to someone. Social battery: negative one hundred percent.

"You look like a **zombie**." Chloe appeared beside her with a red cup. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just... tired." Maya gestured vaguely. "School week, you know?"

"You've been standing by the chips for an hour." Chloe's tone wasn't mean, just observant. "Wanna come sit?"

The truth was, Maya felt like she was underwater most of the time now. Everything was filtered through screens and curated feeds and the crushing weight of everyone else being so effortlessly *on*. She'd rather exist through her phone than actually, you know, exist.

She slipped out the back door, suddenly needing air. The patio was empty, thank god. She breathed out, shoulders dropping, and that's when she saw it—a real live **fox**, padding through the manicured backyard like it owned the place.

It stopped, orange coat glowing under the patio lights, and looked right at her. No fear. Just curiosity.

Maya's phone buzzed with a notification. Someone tagged her in something. The fox's tail twitched.

She watched the fox disappear into the darkness, wild and unbothered and completely offline.

Maya turned off her phone and put it deep in her pocket. Then she took off her hat and shook out her hair, feeling weirdly brave.

Inside, she found Chloe and sat down. "So. What's everyone talking about?"