Gift Of The Magi

Let's say you never intended to use Magi. Let's say you know about all the scandals: the accusations of stolen data, the EU lawsuits, the CEO's abhorrent behaviour. Let's say you don't even believe the outlandish social media claims that the app is magical, like actual magic. You know it's not possible it reads your mind, plumbs your soul, knows your heart's desires. You're not so gullible.

- Neon Yang

made grateful by your kind suggestion. You've read her mind. Your stomach does roller-coaster loops as it slings around life-ending possibilities.

In sleep, you dream of your childhood home, threadbare and bleak under fluorescent light. This time, you are the father, and the miserable, sticky child whinging for your attention is a featureless, unholy amalgam made of you and Susan.

You wake with a heat in your chest and think, I have to get the snip. I need to look up clinics.

But the thought also strikes new fear: You cannot look this up. At all. What if Magi sees? What if Magi tells?