combining shapes, puzzling over contours, putting colours next to colours, twisting signals to new screen sections, listening to the music. . Sure, people think about it, but mainly they play It. My record's eighteen hours at a stretch. 40,012 points, 3 fanfares. . You play through the tears, the aching wrist, the hunger, after a while it all goes away. All of it except the game, I should say. . There's no room in my mind anymore; no room for other things. We copied the game, gave it to our friends. It transcends language, occupies our time, sometimes I think I'm forgetting things these days. . I wonder what happened to the TV. There used to be TV. I wonder what will happen when I run out of canned food. I wonder where all the people went. And then I realise how, if I'm fast enough, I can put a black square next to a red line, mirror it and rotate them so they both disappear, clearing the left block for a white bubble to rise�. (So they both disappear.) . And when the power goes off for good then I Will play it in my head until I die.15. Looking for the GirlI was nineteen in 1965, in my drainpipe trousers with my hair quietly creeping down toward my collar. Every time you turned on the radio the Beatles were singing Help! and I wanted to be John Lennon with all the girls screaming after me, always ready with a cynical quip. That was the year I bought my
