Digital Diversion 4
The Trident Plan
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Chapter 4 Encroachment
Jim woke earlier than normal, especially after staying up late the night before. But he was energized, raring to get back to his multiplayer game.
Breakfast was the rest of his granola and milk. He’d have to go shopping later he thought absently. First there was a side quest to complete. Then back to leveling. Most players considered it mindlessly repetitious but Jim saw opportunity to collect low level items for use later.
His writing pad and pencil lay sprawled and ignored, the phone blinked with unanswered messages, his Group check-in forgotten.
Jim got a good dopamine hit as he slayed the goblin that stole a magic gemstone and returned it for some magical armor. He then slow burned it away through repetitive slaying of random low-level monsters.
By noon he was drooping, feeling sluggish and sleepy. He needed a nap, he thought.
What he really needed was a mirror. The difference between his valiant adventurer character and the player behind it was stark. The character didn’t: have bed-head hair, wrinkled clothes he slept in, ignore routine tasks.
Jim stood up to go take a nap when the landline phone rang. He was instantly angry by the interruption. Old addict behavior.
Shaking off the knee jerk response Jim answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Jim, so glad I caught you. It’s Rachel from Group. We missed your check-in and were worried. Is everything O.K.? “
“Yeah, I, uh, wasn’t feeling well. Overslept. Sorry to have worried you.’
“Oh, I hope it’s nothing serious. Are you having any setbacks?”
“No, I’m good with the alcohol and all.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. Please try to make the next check-in or come to Group for a session.”
“Yeah, I’ll be sure check in.”
Great, talk to you later. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Jim now did feel ill. He was lying to his counselor without hesitation. Somewhere in his patchy memory he had received the lesson that addicts and lying go hand-in-hand. Here he was holding hands and skipping down the lane.
O.K., just a nap and then I’ll get back on track, he thought. Writing, shopping, group schedule, art plans.
He slept long.
He couldn’t think of a single thing to write when tried.
By the time he was showered and changed, the only option was the all-night supermarket where he wouldn’t bump into anyone he knew. Not like he planned it that way, he thought defensively.
He wandered the aisles aimlessly under over-bright florescent lighting, feeling like a ghost among spectres. Not entirely material, translucent representations of physical bodies hiding away somewhere else. Recluses, night-shifters, the chronic depressed. All just wanting to be left alone.
He picked up the essentials, mainly more granola and milk, and he added a desk calendar so he could place it next to his PC and track events without opening an app.
He was eager to get home and get in a little gaming while he could. It was the weekend still.
The game world welcomed him back with open arms. Unlike the real world which would not wait forever.
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Jim! Take a moral inventory already! Step 4 for Diversion 4