Tiny Game: Diagnose Your Literary Damage
Six answers. Six conditions. No referral to a specialist.
The machine has declined to comment.

Lulu Vex maintains Broken Zine’s collection of traps, choices, confessions, and psychological experiments that would never make it past a reputable ethics board.
She is interested in the distance between what people say about themselves and which button they press when nobody is watching.
Six answers. Six conditions. No referral to a specialist.
An advanced endurance test involving silence, uncertainty, and a device twelve feet away.
Ninety seconds. No phone. No looking away. Discover who is heating whom.
Find the object. Or a similar object. It remembers enough.
Cold pizza at 1:13 a.m. The refrigerator light saw everything.
One robe, two club sandwiches, and the emotional hazards of tiny ketchup bottles.
Sticky notes, a label maker, and an affair HR is not equipped to investigate.
A laundromat, a fitted sheet, and mistaking competence for destiny.
Bad signal. Worse boundaries. An ex’s Wi-Fi is the last thing you should go back for.
An intimate relationship with productivity and the shame of buying another notebook.
Choose what went wrong. The machine will dispense the apology you deserve.
Five driving questions. Every wrong answer earns the contempt it deserves.
Pick one. Receive a diagnosis that no professional would sign.
Lulu Vex gives you three doors and no meaningful prize.