|
epitome of incomprehensibility
|
If a man you feel neutral about tries to flirt with you, walk with him along a country path. Tell him all about how your last boyfriend spoke German. Invent imaginary bad English and put it in your ex's mouth. Laugh at the way he called a tank top a "trunk top."
The man flirting with you will kill you in a jealous rage for your tactlessness, but you won't experience it firsthand; you'll read about it when you're a different character. "Strangled or beheaded," you'll think, "it doesn't make a difference; but I don't think the authors should say she was raped first - not in a text game. It seems too real that way."
How do you solve a video text game without being killed? You don't know. The next night, you're in the urban summer camp/hostel, in a giant bed shared by dozens of people, and you sleep with a stitch remover in one hand. It's a little tool with two prongs: one sharp spike, the other a hook ending in a red plastic ball, like a drop of blood in space. You're vigilant. You don't want your current incarnation to be attacked.
You sleep quite comfortably, hands thrown over your pillow, but when you wake you find that you've cut a shallow but long scratch in your left arm with the stitch remover. That will never do. You'll have to ditch the thing, shoulder up your backpack, and move on. Violence begets violence and crafts are for people who can stay in one place, do one thing, for a longer time.
|
160512
|
