From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Tactile
I’m slouching in my scratching wool sweater, clutching a jagged plastic NES controller until my thumb goes numb from the buttons. My older brother is hogging the computer to mess with that clunky new Windows 1.0 interface, acting like personal tech is his ticket to Wall Street because "greed is good," or whatever. Foreigner’s latest ballad is bleeding through my foam headphones while I daydream about DNA fingerprinting catching those guys from the news. This synthetic carpet feels like sandpaper against my legs, but I’m too busy trying to beat this bodacious high score to care.