“Hey Steve, I was playing this really great video game the other day. I slid down this pipe and entered a strange new world.”
“Yeah, yeah, I want to tell you about my day, man. I went to the market to get ripe tomatoes for my sauce, but can you believe they didn’t have any?! I wandered into the blazing heat, sweat pouring down my face until I nearly I drowned in it, to find provisions.”
“Ah-hem! Steve, can we please return to the subject? I was talking about games.”
“I searched five more stores but… Arrrgh!”
Suddenly — in mid-sentence — Steve started foaming at the mouth and fell over. He had babbled like a brook just fine, but the flow of words had increased and grown into a huge foamy, wave that crested and overpowered him.
“Oh, great! He’s barely conscious. I guess I’m alone with my thoughts again.”
A lone figure waddles down a dark and dangerous road. The figure, surrounded by slowly dissipating mist, inches closer to us and becomes visible. The figure’s tongue is lolling out, his eyes are bulging out of his skull, and his shredded shirt is covered by spittle. He is a zombie!
“Grrrrr. Brai– wait,” he says.
He scans the horizon and sees nothing but trees and utter darkness. Not even an owl could be heard in the distance because the darkness, like a true glutton, consumes everything that crosses its path. The zombie sits down on a tree stump next to the road. He leans forward, flexes his arm and rams it under what is left of his decomposing chin. He is the zombie thinker!
“What am I doing here?”, he asked. “Why am I alone? Siiiiigh!”
As he sits thinking, he shakes his head so hard that a rotten ear falls off and plops to the ground. In his state of boredom, he kicks a pebble and it hits a boulder before downing a dying tree. But no one is alive in the forest to hear it fall. The zombie sits on the stump growing roots when he feels his exposed, bony knees begin to shake.
“What is that sound?”
The ground now shakes so hard beneath him that the earthworms ascend into the air, and if they could fly, they surely would have gone on vacation. A whooshing sound rushes through the trees and enough leaves fall to the ground to make a giant woodland salad. A zombie herd, after running their fastest, now pops out of the woodwork.
One zombie from the herd pokes his head around a tree. He talks to the zombie on the stump, “Look alive, Dave! The video game’s about to start.”
“I have to tell you something crazy that happened to me today,” said Sarah.
“Alright,” said Zach.
What was Zach thinking? When we zoomed into his head, we saw a thick layer of fog that surrounded and obscured everything. Impressions were faint and clear thoughts were murky and illusive at best. Moving through the fog, after what felt like eons, we saw it dissipated and clear thinking was on the horizon. But first we had to wade through a cold and calm lake, with its musty cave smell, that served no purpose. The reason for the lifeless lake’s existence would only baffle us and get us annoyingly wet.
After overcoming these obstacles, we saw a wide and thick patchwork of grey cobwebs. They were so expertly sewn as to make forward-looking vision impossible for a brief time. That was discouraging.
But we pressed on and could heart the next part of Zach’s head before saw it. We heard metal clanking, suction tubes gurgling and steam hissing through pipes as it escaped into air. Next we saw sparks flying and gears grinding in circular motions. Near the end of this assembly line of contraptions, we could see stacks and stacks of unplayed video games.
Finally we saw electricity surged through a power line and zipped down a long coil. This raw power headed toward something. That something was a giant light bulb. The bulb lit up, and it seemed like everything was clear; perhaps something profound was about to happen.
“Huh?” said Zach.