found drama

The game is hyperreal. I’m inside the game but I know it’s a game and the game’s iconographics are present. It’s part Neverwinter Nights, part Doom, part Zelda, part Go. There’s no hovering symbology for my “life” or “energy” – – I just feel hurt or not. It’s dark and I’m in the interior of some cavernous space, little demons haunting our(?) steps. I lay traps and step lightly, retreating. I’ll advance when I hear the traps sprung and the danger cleared. Something hits me in the head but there’s nothing there. I withdraw from the game (the console itself is like an old gnarled tree) to find that my dad has dragged the pool table close to where I’ve been playing. He’s accidentally hit me with the cue. He apologizes. A good look at the billiards suggest there’s something going on with them, too. Each ball shines with its own light and swirls with activity. My dad gives me a knowing glance.

About Rob Friesel