dataisplural

And everyone is walking around, browsing, swiping. But there’s this one guy, I can’t quite make out his face because he’s wearing this black hoodie pulled low. He’s making like he’s just another picker in the orchard but as I look closer he’s definitely being weird. He goes up to a phone, unlocks it, taps around a bit, opens Lyft, opens Calendar, locks it. Goes up to another one. Lyft, Calendar, lock. Then towards a tablet. Opens Camera, flashes a hand in front of it, closes it. All the while his face coolly concentrated. 

Then he takes this china marker from his kangaroo pouch and gets to scrawling these… I dunno, glyphs? On some of the display tables. Eerie little cane-like things. One here, one there. He’s got this wallet chain that jangles as he works. All the moms and like infants barely grok him but me I’m transfixed. He takes up this spot, equidistant from the Genius bar and the front doors. A geometric type spot. Next he’s kneeling, inscribing a circle around himself in two quick arcs. 180, 180. Now I feel this hum, low, and it’s not the Mumford coming from that iPad I tell you that for sure. 

I alight from my vantage near the earbuds and approach him, teeth a-rattle. I get close and he’s definitely outputting something some frequency like 666 Hz. I’m upon him now, and harmonizing. 

“My god… you’re hacking this Apple store.” The cyberwight smirks.