no blue shells please | ruhan's hot laps

It had been a long time since Ruhan gripped these steering wheels. He'd gotten so lost in other projects, dipping his hands in adventure games and his toes in MMORPGs that physical Go-Kart racing slipped his mind. His feet tapped the brake pedal to remind himself just how sensitive the controls were. Ruhan asked Vinay, his son, on numerous occasions to detail the in-and-out strategies of these games. Digital, of course. But even digital advice would help for the real deal.

He lived vicariously through his son, creating the games that he'd wished he could have on the computers back when he was a boy. Hunger Games Battle Royale, Racing. Real. Interactive. Both of those activities at the festival beat out the analog likes of Tetris or Snake. The best part was that there were no repercussions for either of them. Success made him happy, and by proxy made his son happy, too. Ruhan turned to look over to the boy, his face, of course, lit up by the screens ahead.

The engines of all the riders roared, and Ruhan tapped his gas. He inched forward, in line with all the other racers. Competitive by nature, he was ready to go. With his head resting against the cushion, fingers freshly wiped clean to ensure he didn't slip on the wheel, and heart beating faster than a bullet train, he waited rather impatiently for the lights to go green.

Red.
Yellow.
GREEN!

Go.