2019 Ok.ru — Giants Being Lonely

Grigori’s profile was simple. His profile picture was a selfie—just his left eye and a chunk of a cloudy sky. His name: “Last of the Stone Folk.” His location: “The Northern Pass.” He had 142 friends, none of whom he had ever met. They were babushkas sharing jam recipes, truck drivers posting sunsets, and lonely teenagers sharing depressive memes.

He had discovered the Russian social network a decade ago, back when his loneliness was just a dull ache in his massive stone ribs. He couldn’t use Facebook—too many people tagging photos of mountains that were actually his sleeping cousins. Twitter was too fast. But ok.ru? Ok.ru was slow. It was full of grainy videos, forgotten music, and people who simply wanted to share a picture of their garden. giants being lonely 2019 ok.ru

He posted photos no one else could take: the inside of a glacier, a thunderstorm from above the clouds, a selfie with a reindeer that had fallen asleep on his palm. Each photo got two or three likes. A woman named Svetlana always wrote: “Beautiful. Stay warm, dear.” Grigori’s profile was simple

He waited. Three minutes later, a notification popped up. Not from Svetlana. From a boy named Dmitri in Murmansk. His profile picture was a blurry photo of a forest. His status: “I have no friends at school.” They were babushkas sharing jam recipes, truck drivers

Every night, after the humans in the village below had turned off their lights, Grigori would sit on his mountain throne, pull out a phone the size of a cinder block, and scroll.

Dmitri wrote: “Yes. Every day.”

For the first time since the other giants faded into hills and legends, Grigori closed his phone and did not feel the weight of the world on his shoulders.