It’s 8 a.m. Sunday. You’ve had breakfast. You look out the window and see him – silent, across the street, staring. Unsettling, but legal.
You load the family into the car for groceries. At the first intersection, there he is again. A camera flashes. Another photo of you, your kids, your license plate.
At the store, he’s there too. Permanent. Unblinking. Your trip is logged, uploaded, stored. Every intersection, every parking lot, every overpass – he and thousands like him are waiting. Watching…