Sacrilegious Beginnings_Interviewing a trickster_Gameplay_Weary Wallflowers
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Sacrilegious Beginnings
I focused on the click-clacking of my laptop, uncut nails tapping fiercely. Each key snipped letters onto the essay I was working on. Usually I could enter a meditative state where I ignored everything, from my hunger to my bladder. But it was simply too difficult to focus when chunks of your own hair kept drifting down and scattering between the keyboard crevices.I took a deep breath before I said, “Will you stop cutting my hair? You do realize it takes a while to grow back, right?”“Eh? Does it really?” A luminous face popped over my right shoulder, one hand outstretched over my left shoulder...
Interviewing a trickster
Below you'll find an excerpt from an interview by the editor-in-chief of Times Weekly, Howard Nash, with the Trickster. Our transcriptionist has tried to make sure that every word uttered during the interview has been transcribed accurately. Nonetheless, we apologize in advance for any discrepancies that might have crept in. Thank you for your co-operation.Howard : Mr. Trickster, what would you say makes you so successful in tricking people?Trickster: Well, if I told you I have three friends: Potrino Stag, Antoni Stag, and Toni F. Caden, how long would it take you to realize that these are ana...
Gameplay
The chocolate ice cream liquifies quickly in the heat, squidging between my toes and staining one of my new camel-coloured sandals. I figure I have ten seconds, tops, before the pig-tailed girl switches from staring at the empty cone to sniffling, crying and ragged screaming, as only children can do, taking a deep breath before each wail.“Alice!”I turn to see who’s calling my name. It’s the pigtailed girl’s mother. “It’s okay, honey, we’ll get you another one,” she says as she takes my namesake’s hand, leading her from the side yard into the house.“Ali, darling, you made it,” Lewis says. Someh...
Weary Wallflowers
"Hi? Nwww.onedoor.cco. Hello? What's up? God, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of myself."She hopelessly stared at the deserted page that was supposed to be a response to an email from her colleague.Deep breaths and an hour later, she managed to send a reply consisting of a “Thank you” and a great amount of remorse since she missed a comma after "Hi"Her face sank in her hands, sitting over hurled dresses. Various shades of black, but it wasn't making it any easier to pick."This one is comfortable," she said, gazing at her reflection dressed in a black, baggy jumper and grey, skinny jeans.The sink was overflowing wi...