I enjoyed games the way I enjoyed reading; I wanted to walk through the story side by side with the character and feel a part of something, but I didn’t want an evil boss to leap out of the story and fight me.
Like Robin Williams in Hook, I want to completely rediscover what’s right in front of me. I want to buy books to read them.
A few candles have found their way into candle holders, and even less have ever actually been lit.
The battalion chief tells me real home intruders “don’t fuck up this badly.”
“Come on, bro, the Internet doesn’t have enough photos of people with twelve fingers, bro.”
Herons fished near trash still floating in their sanctuary.
It took us time to get used to John’s presence.
I actually might knock this out of the hands of my enemies to save them from reading it.
I couldn’t help but feel like there should have been more ceremony about it, or some kind of concrete ritual. Ribbons, maybe?
I’m not looking at every fabric on the internet. I’m not looking at every news story either.
