Day 89: Crossworld

In the before times, we saw each other every week. Your eyes sparkled. We connected, shared a laugh, had an easy friendship.

Now, I send you a word in the morning. I watch for triple word spaces, double letter tiles, and sneaky ways to use J or Q. You’ll add an S to my nouns, I’ll add an ING to your verbs. It’s like skipping a stone to you, across the water, or whistling to the other side of the cul-de-sac.

I haven’t seen you in almost three years. But each of your turns is a message. “I’m still here.”

Day 11: The Last of Us

My Playstation 4 was a “fuck yeah, I’m done with radiation” gift to myself. I’d heard the raves about Redemption, my daughter wanted Detroit, and we were still in loose lockdown.

There began my dance with The Infected. I started with a flashlight, a pistol, and a partner. I gained a child to smuggle to safety. I leveled up to rifle, bow, and Molotov cocktail; I lost the partner, but earned strength and stealth as I avoided infection and killed (several hundred) enemies.

I finished, not well, but true, and knew what it meant as I began the dance again.