The noise and congestion are stifling. Even in the sanctity of my own home, the grimy outside world creeps in. Suddenly, I’m away from it all. Not a soul is in sight. A lone flower sits before me and soon a single petal flutters free. The petal and I fly forward through the valley, skimming across the blades of grass, grazing their tips as we wake up the rest of the flowers. More and more petals join the parade. In a cornucopia of colors, we zoom across the landscape and breathe new life into the world.
Cute Pink doesn’t seem to recognize me. I thought she was on my side, but instead she’s hindering me from proceeding. It’s as if she’s been brainwashed. She issues a challenge and states I can’t pass unless I’m able to complete it. With giant mallot in hand and jet pack on back, I smash sections out from under a massive Bomberman statue built from stacked blocks, making sure not to topple it by accidentally hitting the wrong segments. I’m not successful at first, but after a few tries I finally best Cute Pink’s top score. Suddenly, her bright personality returns and she remembers who she is. After a brief conversation, she steps aside and I head forth to whatever new challenges await me.
It’s all down to this putt. If I sink it, I claim victory over my opponent and can move on to the next set of challenges. But if I miss, all my efforts are for naught and I’ll have to start over from square one. I’m kicking myself because I blew it: I botched a few easy shots and misjudged a couple simple putts, basically giving the competition a free pass on almost half of the holes. As I’m gauging the putt distance, a family of ducks float nearby in a small pond and a chorus of insects and birds chirp their symphony. I finally make my move and the ball inches toward the hole, as if in slow motion. After what seems like an eternity, it finally drops into the cup. My muscles ease up and the elation that comes with a close victory courses through my veins!
It’s nearing 10:00 and my son is sleeping on my chest, breathing deeply. My wife sits near me, knitting and chatting with me about nothing in particular. My eyes are focused on the television, watching Lumines Supernova on the screen. Even though I’m playing the game, my mind isn’t paying attention. Instead, I’m content to enjoy a quiet, relaxing Saturday evening with my family. I notice the blocks rise and fall, the music periodically changes, and the visuals shift from one scene to the next, but the game seems more like something far off in the distance. Happily, so do the worries and responsibilites that usually consume my thoughts.