From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Tactile
I’m sprawled on the basement shag carpet, the rough polyester scratching my elbows while I white-knuckle the plastic rectangle of my new NES controller. My thumb is raw from the D-pad, but I have to beat this level before my brother hogs the TV to watch the news about those Navy documents reported found in some spy's home. It’s totally chill down here away from the humidity, wearing my favorite stiff denim vest and listening to Tears for Fears blare from the boombox. I can hear my dad grumbling about the price of gas hitting over a buck a gallon, but I’m just focused on the neon glow of the screen and the smooth, gray plastic of the console.