Months ago, moving out here—fleeing up here—had been a triumph of escape.
Working in the City in the years after college, she had begun to feel her age,
and the curious way that hearing her neighbors wake each morning on the other
side of a thin wall could feel lonelier than silence. So she downloaded the
apps, an act that felt like one more step of the Blakean descent into
complicitude in her own immiseration.
A Friend To All Creatures by Justine Time, page 4