The Game of Life Essay

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The Game Of Life By Serene Lee Right around the far corner, there stands a gold plate engraved, proudly, with 'GAMES'. Down that particular corridor, each wooden door, on and on, has a silver sign - 'The Game of Deceit'; 'The Game of Lies' - and the last door before the marble floor comes to an end that reads, 'The Game of Life'. Tall and dark it stands like a shadow. ‘The Game of Life’ door opened and closed quickly as three black hoods shuffled in. Game-makers, as so they were named. They sat, not skipping a beat, in a circle at the center of the white marble floor, paying no heed to the eerily spotless room. A hole emerged through the flooring and a mercury-like liquid spilled through. The cloaked figure in the middle extended a black sleeve to touch the liquid, and the mist that shrouded its true contents faded away. The image of a young man appeared through puffs of smoke, deep below the surface of the mercurial liquid, deeper than the marble flooring. And so the first cloak spoke, from its spot in the middle, ‘We’ve got ol’ Joey here today, Joseph Kushakji. Remember him?’ The cloak took the silence as confirmation, ‘...Same problem with him, we’ve been on this case more than once. We’re not doing this right.’ ‘Wait, do remind me, what’s wrong with him?’ A second cloak, this time, the one on the right. ‘He’s playin’ it too serious. It’s just a game. You know what happens when they do that.’ ‘So what can we do?’ The last cloak, the one on the left, had spoken. ‘I’d say we do what we normally do, it’d put him off for a while before we think of something better.’ The three hooded figures huddled closer together. The floating cloak in the middle reached out a sleeved arm towards the hole in the floor, and with a sweep of black cloth the surface of the liquid changed, again. The cloak on the left pointed at a certain spot in

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