Help me, You find me hollow eyed, staring into the middle distance. My finger nails are bitten down to the cuticles and I am starting to question if there is any point to anything. This is because geological ages have passed since I took my last turn. In fact, I am dashing off this missive as I wait.
I am not Christopher Lambert in Highlander! I have a limited duration on this planet and am currently having my ever dwindling pot of time quaffed away by someone who couldn’t make a decision if their life depended on it and, believe me, it soon very well may do.
I don’t love my job. I drag myself through the petty annoyances of office life so I can enjoy myself when I’m not at work. So, when I discovered gaming I truly thought I had found the one thing that could haul me through the endless mouse clicks and “zoom check-ins”. My liver was doing somersaults as the need for a clear head to manipulate the mechanisms of Herrs Feld and Rosenberg made me knock the drinking on the head.
That was until, let’s call them Slowmo, joined our group. An affable type with a wide smile and a charming manner, I was delighted that we had found such genial company to join us on our ludological travels. That is, of course, until I played with them. All of their former brio and cognitive acuity drained away the picosecond they were asked to take a turn.