The file opens for an update
A wheel slowly circulates, arrows leading to one another. They pulse with light.
The window closes
Large windows open up in five different sizes, each marked with a distinct text.
These texts are unreadable.
Two of the windows minimize simultaneously
A window opens and closes toolbars like shutters or drawers, frantically rifling up and down, highlighting options.
A push notification implodes quietly
The bytes hardly hush. The logo is split open, exposing a core of greenish glitch.
An arrow clicks three times
A folder is pinioned by cursors. They click and drag, morphing icons, blowing them out in fields of pixel.
A window opens with a red exclamation point
An error sound run-ons a marimba plastic thud. Other applications are in use.
Several hourglasses hover in a corner.
An hourglass becomes a red X
All possible screen savers go on at once. Battery life drains to negative percentages. The slow sigh of a forced shutdown.
Barrett White is the author of TON (Spirit Cat Tapes, 2014) and editor of LENSES, an online journal of the digital abject. His work has appeared or is forthcoming from New Wave Vomit, 3AM, Tagvverk, LIES/ISLE, NOÖ, and elsewhere.