Tales From Earth:The Games We Play - Revision history

Scott at 16:05, 9 April 2007

2007-04-09T16:05:03Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 16:05, 9 April 2007
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	'''The Games We Play''' by duckiemonster		'''The Games We Play''' by duckiemonster

Duckiemonster at 23:04, 12 December 2005

2005-12-12T23:04:34Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:04, 12 December 2005
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	'''The Games We Play''' by duckiemonster		'''The Games We Play''' by duckiemonster

	~~''Italic text~~''Whilst the Perplex City ~~sentinal~~ has a section devoted to the most ~~devillish~~ of riddles and puzzles, the Earth papers have recently latched onto the "Su Doku", a puzzle originating in Japan. The aim is to fit the numbers 1 to 9 in each row and column of a grid that's made up of 9 9 by 9 boxes. Grades range from "Daily Mail Coffee Break" to "The Times Fiendish".~~''Italic text~~''		''Whilst the Perplex City "Sentinal" has a section devoted to the most devilish of riddles and puzzles, the Earth papers have recently latched onto the "Su Doku", a puzzle originating in Japan. The aim is to fit the numbers 1 to 9 in each row and column of a grid that's made up of 9 9 by 9 boxes. Grades range from "Daily Mail Coffee Break" (complete in 15 seconds) to "The Times Fiendish" (If you're lucky, an hour...)''

Duckiemonster at 23:03, 12 December 2005

2005-12-12T23:03:14Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:03, 12 December 2005
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	'''The Games We Play''' by duckiemonster		'''The Games We Play''' by duckiemonster

			''Italic text''Whilst the Perplex City sentinal has a section devoted to the most devillish of riddles and puzzles, the Earth papers have recently latched onto the "Su Doku", a puzzle originating in Japan. The aim is to fit the numbers 1 to 9 in each row and column of a grid that's made up of 9 9 by 9 boxes. Grades range from "Daily Mail Coffee Break" to "The Times Fiendish".''Italic text''


	She’s unspeakably beautiful; I think that’s why I notice her first. Then I		She’s unspeakably beautiful; I think that’s why I notice her first. Then I
	~~notice~~ the concentration on her face.		see the concentration on her face.

	My coffee is getting cold. I’m pretending to look out of the window, but if I		My coffee is getting cold. I’m pretending to look out of the window, but if I

Sledgecallier at 22:46, 11 December 2005

2005-12-11T22:46:20Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 22:46, 11 December 2005
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	'''The Games We Play'''		'''The Games We Play''' by duckiemonster
	~~'''~~duckiemonster~~'''~~

	She’s unspeakably beautiful; I think that’s why I notice her first. Then I		She’s unspeakably beautiful; I think that’s why I notice her first. Then I

Sledgecallier at 22:45, 11 December 2005

2005-12-11T22:45:53Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 22:45, 11 December 2005
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	'''The Games We Play		'''The Games We Play'''
	duckiemonster'''		'''duckiemonster'''

	She’s unspeakably beautiful; I think that’s why I notice her first. Then I		She’s unspeakably beautiful; I think that’s why I notice her first. Then I

Sledgecallier at 22:45, 11 December 2005

2005-12-11T22:45:26Z

New page

'''The Games We Play
duckiemonster'''

She’s unspeakably beautiful; I think that’s why I notice her first. Then I
notice the concentration on her face.

My coffee is getting cold. I’m pretending to look out of the window, but if I
turn my eyes over to the left, I get a perfect view of her in a mirror
attached to the wall; an attempt to make this hole of a café attractive.

She sits on her own, twisting a strand of her long, long hair around her
fingers, gazing intensely at the paper in front of her. She’s tapping her pen
gently on her bottom lip, she’s whispering something over and over again. I’m
trying to lip read, but I keep getting distracted and I can’t make it out.

She’s writing something now. The way the pen moves, it looks like a single
letter. If I just lean over a bit more, I might be able to see…

Oh crap, I think she’s noticed me staring. Her eyes flicked over just now, I
think she smiled a little. I turn hastily to stare out of the window,
apparently fascinated by the rare spectacle of a number 23 bus. God, my hands
are shaking? I’m glaring at the bus so hard now that I’m starting to worry the
passengers. I remain resolutely focused forwards. I can’t look again, what
will she think?

Almost without my command, and definitely against my better judgement, my eyes
slide to look in the mirror again. She’s twisted towards me more. She
definitely saw me. She’s running her pen from side to side across her lower
lip. I wonder if a woman has ever looked more attractive. I let my imagination
run wild for a second, mentally thrusting my hands into her hair, kissing her
pouting lips, smoothing her furrowed brow…

She’s looking again! This time there can be no doubt that she’s seen my
staring… I risk a little wave from my reflection to hers. My reflection looks
embarrassed, it’s rather flushed. Hers looks far too relaxed. This is unfair.

She’s getting up. Walking over.

“Excuse me?” she says, sitting on the stool next to mine.

“Yes?” My voice is trembling more than my hands. I wonder what she’s going to
say… am I about to be wearing my cappuccino? Dragged off to a hotel room?
Made to feel the size of a microbe?

She slides the paper in front of me. “Do you Su Doku?” she looks up, her eyes
lock with mine. “I’m rather stuck.”

Outside, the bus starts to move.