Wave

 A man on the train is sharpening a knife on a whetstone, loudly, looking around to see if anyone is watching. Everyone is watching.

A man is lying against the wall of the Plaid Pantry across the street. As I roll past, he yells.that I should come over there so he can break my other leg. I think about it.

A man enters the gift shop, slips a pair of novelty socks into his pocket, and attempts to enter the galleries without paying. He is finally shown the door after trying to fish money out of the donation box.

A man makes a pile of newspapers on the wall and sets it on fire, then stands there to admire his handiwork. It only burns for a few minutes but smoke rises from it for a long time.

A man runs screaming through the streets, tearing up plants, breaking windows, picking up and hurling anything that's not bolted down.  A man writes in fat, bulbous letters on every surface, the same illegible word over and over. A man defecates in the middle of the sidewalk, a singular statement, crude yet elegant in its simplicity. A man starts tapping on his phone, initiating a transaction with consequences that branch out in all directions, ripples that turn into waves that swell and gain in momentum as they hurtle  toward the shore.