Not pretending to be shopping,they canvass cobblestoned Water Street, near-sightedas beach sweepers, their devices feeling aheadfor which alleyway, or corner of a yard,might sprout a Snorlax, a purple Aerodactyl.
“These are the Pokemon Go people,” explains a villagerto her guest, careful not to point as one group passes,their jean shorts to mid-shin, arms arabesquedwith dates or skewered hearts, some steering strollers.
Scattered among the eighteenth-century colonials,the Improvement Association’s clapboard plaquesremember Hale, ship captain, and Stewart, joiner,each calling stenciled right beneath the name.In this new life, vocation’s not so certain—
assignments can vibrate at any time, the locationof a needed creature flash, then disappear.You almost have to be waiting there already,disconsolate after a day of nothingas light drains at the former hotspot in Cannon Square.
When two wild Pikachu clamberover the…