Pinky, Blinky, Inky and Clyde chase Pac Man around the maze. I listen to sirens wail, the bleep each time a ghost nears, my fingers tapping the buttons harder, faster. Run, run, I scream. Pac Man is unperturbed, dying to live another day.
In my dream I’m trapped in the labyrinth, gobbling up dots, living out my days. Sirens wail, bleeps bleep and around each corner, a ghost awaits. But the yellow half-moon of optimism, that je ne sais quoi Pac Man resilience, evaporates. My ghosts sit across the table at breakfast, eager to start the day.
Jamie Etheridge’s work has been published or is forthcoming in JMWW Journal, Emerge Literary Journal, Inkwell Journal, (mac)ro(mic) and X-R-A-Y Lit among others. Twitter @LeScribbler
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