Her thumb hovered over the three dots. Block. Mute. Report.

The public square was a myth. It was a war zone, and the loudest, most boring people had the biggest bombs.

She had folders, too, though Twitter didn't officially allow them. In her mind, they were color-coded.

She snorted.

Tonight, Lena was adding number 1,248.

It was not a scream of rage, but a quiet, architectural marvel. She had curated it over seven years with the precision of a museum archivist. There were 1,247 accounts in total, each one a brick in a great, invisible wall she had built around her feed.

Lena’s blocked list was, by any metric, a masterpiece.

A new folder appeared in her mind: .