The great consolidation: one screen swallows the shelf.
The smartphone finishes the job: wallet, camera, map, television, post office. What survives learns to talk to it - the speaker in the kitchen, the band on the wrist, the doorbell with an eye. The family photo is a thousand photos nobody prints.
The glass rectangle itself - and the moment the average person began touching it two thousand times a day.
The feed replaces the front page and the argument never closes; an opioid quietly hollows the counties the boom forgot.
The decade of a gig driver watching the app, a grandmother on a video call with grandchildren two oceans away, and a teenager who has never once been bored in line.