Whoosh!
There it went again. The game controller.
“Crash!” Hitting the edge of the couch.
“Rawr!”—Whoosh. And there goes the cat.
I’m not playing, so I’m not the thrower. It’s my friend. He’s lost again. A level he can’t beat.
“Okay… okay,” he says, after retrieving the controller and starting the game back up. “I’m gonna get it this time.”
The cat isn’t so sure. She’s in the hallway now, peeking around the corner.
Me, well, I want him to beat the level. But not yet. He keeps skipping through the preliminary video, the one that continues the narrative of the game’s story. I haven’t seen it yet because I arrived on attempt #6.
“Aghhhh!”
Another fail. This time, however, though he holds the controller as is if it’s a boomerang, he instead sets in on the floor softly.
“I’m done,” he says.
We then watch TV until he falls asleep. Once this happens I turn the game back on. I’m gonna get this story.
As the video begins to play, my friend stirs and half wakes up.
“You gonna try beat him?” he asks, sleepily, adding, “…good luck.”
“Something like that,” I reply.
I get through the video and then turn the system off. No attempt made at beating the level. I’m all caught up.
A few minutes later, my friend half wakes again. A bit confused by the darkness, he asks, “Already gave up?”
“Yeah. You can beat it tomorrow.”
And I hope he does.
I feel attacked