R–

The fluorescent lights of the local grocery store hummed with a mechanical drone that Remmick found endlessly irritating. Everything about this era was too loud, too bright, and tar too plastic. He wandered through the aisles with a patient smile plastered on his face, though his mind was privately cataloguing the absurdities of the twenty first century. He had been trying to understand the concept of a refrigerated beverage section for twenty minutes, and his iPhone 6 was already struggling under the weight of ninety seven open tabs as he attempted to research the nutritional value of modern processed snacks.