You vanish.
New phone.
New email.
Cash only.
You move to a tiny cabin in the woods with no Wi-Fi, no signal, no
surveillance.
You start using candles again.
Read paperback books.
Talk to squirrels.
For a while, it works.
You even forget what Twitter feels like.
UntilâŚ
One day, your batteryless radio crackles.
âWe miss you.â
âCome back online. Just for a second.â
âYour followers want closure.â
You scream, smashing the radio.
But the wind outside whispers binary.
01011001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01100011 01100001 01101110 00100111 01110100 00100000 01100101 01110011 01100011 01100001 01110000 01100101
You translate it later:
"You canât escape."