1.23.2004

Last night, a boy dreamed he had been placed in a game.

The game was posed in the first person, and was difficult.

The game's features were dark and of limitless resolution.

It was not a competitive game, but this was not declared.

The game furnished dozens of ways to lose, which was dying.

When you died you were instantly placed at the starting point.

The boy moved across the plains, in pioneer mode.

When he found a glitch in the crust, he climbed in.

A posse of former players lived there, refusing to die.

They were dirty, suspicious, lean, and undetected by the game.

The boy was not welcomed by them, though he saw a bright, harsh girl.

Weather forced him to stay the night underground.

He was woken early by the girl and told to flee for his life.

Days later on the plain, he unwrapped a cloth package.

It was a cloth sheet, written all over with an insensible letter.