This weekend, a creepy wind will blow the treehouse away. The floorboards are creaking, but no one is standing on them. The fairy light flickers, but hasn’t been plugged in since January. The corner screen, where we all pretend to be work, is cracked and cold. This is what we (the remaining ones) are clicking on.
James
A frosty strong winds pass through and carry a crisp foil wrapper of unpuffed graphics cards. Was James here once, a long time ago? It’s difficult to say.
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Ollie
The sound of cranking in the distance is carried by the same strong winds. Somewhere, in the far bedroom, there is Ollie bone, clutching his hand with stiff Mortis’s nails on top of a webbed laptop that once ran Factor Rio.
Graham:
I was caught up in Fantasy Life I for all precedents. It’s a TODO list, a grind, and it’s not a class that it’s doing millions, but you have to mine rocks, so you can earn bridges so you can sell rocks so you can level up your base camp, so you can unleash furniture.
Nick
The smell of hell itself rises from the ground beneath the wooden house. Perhaps Nick is there now, far below Mass, killing the same demon that has made him so angry in his life.
Jeremy
click. Another click. Where are you coming from? wall. ceiling? No, the same canvas hides 256 colors somewhere under the frame of the picture, the thin dust film. Another click. Jeremy is somewhere.
Edwin
I don’t have much time for games as I go to see my family on weekends, but I might cram a reading for the awful work I’m working on about the Amnesia series and Nietzsches, one of Europe’s more monster philosophers. If you read something decent in Nietzsche or video games or play video games with Nietzsche elements, you’d like to know about it.
Brendan
A man leaning sadly in the corner, typing, typing and typing. The air vibrates, and I feel the throbbing heart of memory. The Treehouse is filled with loud ghosts at once, with noises in silence, the scary faces of all the rock paper past, rock paper presents, and the future of rock paper. The numbers rotate slowly. The sparkle of the CRT screen will disrupt your face. “Baratoro” He is the cloakroom. “We’re all playing Baratoro right now.”
But you, readers, dear, what are you doing this weekend? …