“Hey, Murph.”

“Thad.”

“A question.”

“Yes, grasshopper?”

“Is this another obscure TV reference?”

“Your question, padawan?”

“Better. What’s existential dread?”

Murph pondered.

“Imagine two people talking animatedly. Their faces all aglow. Eyes darting. Lips smiling, moving, alive. Foreheads furrowing. They’ve got that forward-leaning posture. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now they pull out their phones. Faces go slack. Dead eyes glaze over. Pale light cruelly ages them. Limp lips part slightly. A bubble of moisture gathers at one corner of their mouths and oozes down. Then . . .

“Stop! What does it mean? That’s existential dread?”

“Time for you to go.”