Since I'm rather late with my musing this month and October is upon us I've decided to lend this tale a bit of Halloween flavor. For your reading pleasure I present to you a tale of horror, a story of what happens when game saves are stored away and indefinitely forgotten. Turn your lights down low and your Silent Hill soundtracks up as I impart to you my monthly musing, Poe style.
Once upon a midnoon day, as I whiled the hours away,
Tidying up many a quaint and curious shelf of forgotten lore,
I spotted there upon the wrapping something that I'd been lacking,
A memory card containing my glorious adventures of yore.
"'I should totally play this again," I muttered, "play and relive my forgotten days of yore-
Only a few hours, and nothing more."
Distinctly I remember it was the past bleak December,
When last I had dusted the dust from my PS2 upon the floor.
Eagerly I found the cable;- quickly set the disc to stable
Pressed the power- the red light did glower-
Roused from its slumber for the hour-
Ah, how this game I did adore.
And the churning sad uncertain whirling of my console's burden,
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis a normal sound emitting from the core-
A normal PS2 sound from within the core;-
This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my anticipation grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Start," said I, "or through the window you will explore";
But the title screen then came snapping, and so gently a final scrapping,
Before the start screen appeared, tasked was I with selecting my previous chore,
Pressing "X" I prepared to see my final score;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I sat there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no gamers ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the confirmation of my fears unspoken,
And the only word there written was the simple word, "Error!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Error!"-
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the bedchamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely it is only a glitched status:
Let me restart the game, and this mystery explore-
Let my game save still be there, my prayer did implore";
'Twas a blank screen and nothing more.
Pulled out then the card from the clutter, the console did whirl and stutter,
Upon the case an insignificant scratch inflicted from when it had fallen underneath a drawer;
Not the least concession made I; not a minute stopped or stayed I;
But, pressed the card into the slot once more-
Pressed the restart and waited crouched upon my floor-
Awarded only the option to begin anew, and nothing more.
Then this ironic situation beguiling my saddened face into smiling,
By the grave situation it forswore.
"Though thy saves be corrupted," I said, "my gaming shan't be interrupted,
Alas, if I only knew what secrets you used to store-
Tell me what games I've saved to you that you no longer store!"
Quoth the Save'n, "Nevermore."
Much I marveled this unlikely chance to hear it speak so plainly,
Though its answer little assistance- little reassurance bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was behest with speaking with a device to which games would store-
My sanity was clearly in question, I contemplated the effect of running screaming from the door,
Surely the card had not uttered "Nevermore."
But the save'n, sitting lonely in my hand, spoke only
That one word, as if its soul in that one word it did outpour.
Nothing further did it utter- while I watched feeling flustered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "this shit just got hardcore-
Also I should cut back on my drinking." I swore.
Then the card said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "This is merely a dream and something to ignore,
Caught from some late night snack which lead to disaster
My mind spun fast and then faster till the words one burden bore-
Till the dirges of my hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'."
While the Save'n still beguiling I considered grabbing the phone and dialing,
Instead I took a seat in front of console and card on the floor;
Then upon the carpet sinking, I found myself thinking,
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous card of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous card of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the many hours spent endeavoring for that high-score;
The many countless adventures and skills that required refining,
Characters who's lives I followed over,
But whose stories now buried under clover ,
Game saves I would return to complete, ah, nevermore!
And the Save'n, never splitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the shelf of games just beside my chamber door;
A sad reminder of games forgotten,
Games I meant to come back to someday and play once more;
The final testament to the effort into my hobby I did pour
To be played again- nevermore!
Sorry for the overly exciting punctuation, I didn't have a writing program installed so it was all done on the fly and I pretty much just kept the original stuff rather than actually edit for the new content. I hope you all enjoyed it. read