Physics of Gaming

emily wahl

Sean King

Diana Tobey

Macaroni Dots

Benjamin Chandler

Sam Becker

English

Its eyes were filled with hunger and hatred as I stared into the eyes of the abyss, I could see her eyes illuminating out of the monsters evil snare. "I'll give her back to you, all you have to do is come over here..."My body moves itself without hesitation knowing its a trap.

Suddenly, an overwhelming grip of claw-like pincers grab my waist. Through all the pain and carnage in this journey... I finally knew what I needed to do to get her back to me.

I should have listened to hear when she told me to stop wearing shrimp-scented cologne. I was mad that she tried to control me, but she was trying to prevent me from being eaten by a giant crab. “If I survive this, I owe you an apology!” I said through gritted teeth.

I grabbed a claw full of sea mud and slung it at my gargantuan opponent, whose pointy red shell seemed to tell the tale of many battles, none lost. I was beginning to lose hope when

A green portal opened, and Rick and Morty walked out. “Don’t worry, Diana! We got this freaking jerk man!” Rick pulled out a long wooden stick and poked at the red gargantuan, and it exploded into a blue colored bloody mess!

It was during the cleanup that Diana met Chaz, a street sweeper. He shoveled blue slop, scoured the asphalt, sweaty muscles bulging under his overalls. Diana couldn't resist. "Hey," she said, rolling her fingers over his bicep. Chaz tipped his hat. Their love would become legend.

Dianah Cheats on random dude I guess

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Lynsie Lucas

Leyre g

Emma Mazzucco

Juan Sebastián Escobar

“MEMORY LANE, All Trips Non-Refundable” read the sign on the door. I walked inside to find a clean white room with only a front desk, no chairs or ferns or any of the normal strip mall clutter. An old man appeared from a door just behind the front desk. “Welcome to

The Memory Lane. What brings you here, son?” I suddenly felt uneasy. What kind of name of business was this? The old man waited for an answer, but I could hardly breathe. What had taken over me? I then realized... I should not be here.

It was too late for such thoughts, of course. Whether it was right or wrong, I was there. And I was sweating.

Those thoughts were eating my head, I had to pretend to be fine to avoid attracting attention of others

It had been an hour and I was bout to cry I had to find a distraction or something I love. I went into my room and found...

my trusty diary. I quickly scanned for the date in question: August 8, 1988, the fateful night of my alien encounter. I quickly begin reading my frantic handwriting, words jumping out at me: steamy, silent, spheres of illusion. The last line written was a street address.

Damn it, was this a Tinder memory or something more? Perhaps a memory implanted by my abductors to make me doubt myself. I grabbed my jacket and hopped into my old truck, dead set on finding answers at whatever I would find waiting for me at that address.

Finally there I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what's behind the door. My legs are shaking, I'm now hoping for the implanted memory alternative. I grab the door handle, where a playful necktie is hanging, and slowly open the door, just to see what I was hoping not to see

with my unwashed eyes. My grade school sweetheart and my college best friend were playing two-person twister right there on the living room floor. They were both reaching for red when I fainted onto the beanbag chair.

Memory Lane

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Mel S

Sunny Anomaly

"Happy birthday!" they sang—but it wasn't my birthday.

I tried to play it off cool; it wasn’t my birthday but I wanted those presents I could see on the table behind them.

“Yeah!” I said, letting the awkwardness drain from my voice. “It’s totally my birthday! You remembered and everything!” As I said this, it dawned on me that from now on, I’d probably have to pretend that my birthday was on this date. But the presents glistened before me, and I

would have to pretend that I was excited, everything was confusing. "Happy birthday!" they kept saying

over and over. Have I gone insane? Did I know these people? All of a sudden, I heard a bell toll. A warm sensation took over me. That’s when I knew this wasn’t real. That fall wasn’t just a dream. This coma is where my thoughts are. And someone’s birthday is in the room over.

I feel my body…in pain. My legs are being squeezed rhythmically with some kind of machine. So much pain— the fall? The sunlight was shocking as I opened my eyes for the first time in— how long was I asleep? A hospital room. Happy voices from the other room. Happy birthday, kid.

Birthday at the Edge of Death Day

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Even1o2

"I only agreed to this because you told me Danny DeVito would be here!"

“I am here,” Danny DeVito chuckled as he stepped out of the shadows with a katana gripped in his hands.

He looked like a black chicken but I did not laugh nor did I look scared. Luckuly he didn't see me and only Bob.

We already knew what will happen to us. Bob shuffles for his shattered glasses on the floor. His eyes began to focus.

As if by a true miracle, he realized he could see without his glasses. He saw where they lay on the floor and picked them up, just in case. But he truly hoped the miracle would last.

It's a DeVito Miracle!

I finally got on dance moms but Abby lee miller kept screaming"...

"You're not prepared for that show! You have no idea what it takes to win Dance Moms," Abby cried. I thought for a second. Was she right? Had all my training been for naught? No, I decided, and booked my ticket to Reno.

Once I'd hit "confirm," the reality of what I'd just done didn't hit me right away. At first, I was filled with more excitement than anything else—maybe even relief, because I'd made a decision. Now, what filled me with anxiety, was the realization that I had to follow through.

I think that having made that decision has done me worse than I imagined, the worst thing I did in my life

Do I even come back from this? Probably not. I made my bed. Now I have to lay in it. I could’ve done more to get the kid back home and I didn’t. What kind of person does that make me? I don’t think it makes me a person...

It makes me a monster. Knowing this decision would haunt me the rest of my life, I began to recluse myself, not wanting to ruin anyone else’s life. Maybe in another 50 years, I could emerge again. Or maybe I would just be the crazy shut-in for the rest of my life.

emily wahl
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