Like most women and AFAB people, I’ve been trained from birth to mistrust my perceptions. Then I spent the night in a haunted house.
The King William’s College Quiz is notoriously cryptic and uncompromising. For twenty-five years, my friend and I tried to get the perfect score.
Soon after I bought the game, I began to obsess over another map, one that also didn’t fully exist.
Both the sandwich and I were ‘made in China’ but with an undeniable Americanness.
Everything I do is done behind a desk. And now, now? Now I can even use this Peloton. I don’t even need to run in the rain.
At detention centers, these prized possessions go straight into the trash. A devastating omen for the way immigrants are treated in this country.
To me, these never felt like steps to sprint through on the way to simulating life, but life itself.
As cliché as it’s become to say, I found myself needing this game in a way I could have never accounted for, even with all my years of fanboying.
I am no gentile, but a Jew, with chill Jewish parents, who loves the pepper-and-onion slice at Alfie’s.
It’s very calming, very methodical, very good if, say, someone you love has died, but you know the world cannot stop, and you can’t either.