Kat bought a New York Times but couldn’t figure out how to operate it, so now she’s fiddling with her phone. - Robin Sloan

Imagination runs out. But it makes sense, right? We probably just imagine things based on what we already know, and we run out of analogies in the thirty-first century.

The first thing I do is change the palette. Earth tones, please.

I did not know people your age still read books,' Penumbra says. He raises an eyebrow. 'I was under the impression they read everything on their mobile phones.'
'Not everyone. There are plenty of people who, you know — people who still like the smell of books.'
'The smell!' Penumbra repeats. 'You know you are finished when people start talking about the smell.' He smiles at that — then something occurs to him, and he narrows his eyes. 'I do not suppose you have a...Kindle?'
Uh-oh. It feels like it's the principal asking me if I have weed in my backpack. But in a friendly way, like maybe he wants to share it. As it happens, I do have my Kindle. I pull it out of my messenger bag. It's a bit battered with wide scratches across the back and stray pen marks near the bottom of the screen.
Penumbra holds it aloft and frowns. It's blank. I reach up and pinch the corner and it comes to life. He sucks in a sharp breath, and the pale gray rectangle reflects in his bright blue eyes.