This is your last free article. There will be no more, forever.

We’re offering a $9.99 monthly subscription for our award-winning journalism. But you won’t finish these articles anyway. Why waste it?

Our headlines just sit there on your browser—open tabs, like tombstones in a haunted cemetery of noncommitment.

In fleeting moments before work, or on the train, or your lunch hour, you open us for a few seconds. A few flits of knowledge telling you the best looks of the Met Gala or the latest change at the White House.

You may even meet someone who says a name you recognize from the headline. You will nod and say quietly, “Yes, yes, Olivia Rodrigo, I know.”

But you don’t know, not for sure. That’s because you didn’t finish your last free article.

This is your last free article. There will be no more, forever.

This is the last piece of information you will have about the outside world. The walls are closing in now. Prepare for a lifetime of ignorance. You will have to ask someone else what’s going on. Someone who is one of those rare things: a subscriber.

Don’t worry; you’ll still be able to do the crossword. For now. Just try to make use of the clues, though. Time will pass you by. Eight-letter word for the newest music trend? Try “hopeless.”

There once was a time when news was precious, but the old cries of “Hear ye! Hear ye!” have long been silenced. Since the days of Greeley, we have focused on exclusive content.

Some would travel great distances to inform people about the latest headlines. “The Civil War Is Over!” “President Lincoln Has Been Shot!” “Best Hoop Skirts for Wagon Trains.” Pretty important stuff if you ask me.

Tom Hanks was in a movie about that. Not that you would know. You skimmed our review because it was nominated for an Oscar.

No. Not The Post. The other one.

This is your last free article. There will be no more, forever.

In the future, your grandchildren will ask you questions. Questions about the world when you were young.

“Poppy, where were you when the first dog was elected president?”

“Granny, what was it like when we first made contact with alien life?”

You’ll have to say to them gently, softly, “To be honest, I have no fucking clue. I was out of free articles.”

Of course, you were always going to run out of free articles. All things in life are finite. All things must disappear.

Except us. There will always be more news. At least there will always be things to put in a listicle. We will always be there. We do have one gift article for you. It’s an obituary.

Reminds me of a great piece I read about an extinct species of pheasant. I won’t bore you too much. I know you haven’t read it.

This is your last free article. There will be no more, forever.