GAME SAVED.
He pressed Y. The phone vibrated. A soft, heavy clink came from the pocket of the seat in front of him. He reached down. His fingers touched cold, fluted metal. A real canteen, dented and caked with alkali dust, with the initials J.M. scratched into the side. google no wifi game
But he could still feel the sun on his skin. He still knew his name. GAME SAVED
He didn't choose.
WHERE ARE YOU?
This wasn't a game. This was a transaction. fluted metal. A real canteen