To Click or Not to Click

I turn to the door on my right only to realise it is not my door to open. No matter, I will walk on, into the night, in search of something, like happiness or a superior garage sandwich. I’m not entirely sure what my objective is, I didn’t read the rules carefully before coming here. I know that if I continue on, eventually I will find someone who can help me and direct me down the right path. My friend. I rummage through my inventory. A wallet, a mars bar wrapper, a phone. I give him a call. He’s in. I had the wrong house. Perhaps I made a wrong turn somewhere or perhaps I haven’t gone far enough. In front of me is a medium sized flat, two windows, a door and a garden. There are no objects to interact with. Could this be my door? It is. I open it. Inside are seven people, four drunk, and three who are mildly intoxicated. The drunk people cannot answer or if they can it is only in riddles not pertaining to my situation. There are inapproachable. I try to engage the mildly intoxicated. After a customary hello they begin to talk amongst themselves. They cannot be interrupted. The sober person is now smoking weed, I can no longer talk to him. My friend arrives. I am able to say more than hello. After a brief conversation another person enters and he is gone. I am left alone. I check my inventory. It is the same. I check the objects in front of me. Sixteen beers, thirty two shots, fourteen empty cups and a ping pong ball. None of the drinks belong to me, I cannot touch them. I try to talk to one of the other people but they have gone outside with the smokers. I have no more options. I have no one I can talk to. Obviously the answer is not here.

I am outside again. The light is beginning to fade. I see ahead of me a path and a row of houses. The street is deserted. I am unsure how to proceed. So I head west. Then north. Then southeast. Then southwest. Then west. There are no people or objects to engage with along the way. Stores are open but my balance is insufficient. I arrive at my own door, for which I have the key. I enter. There is a kitchen, a bathroom and my room. I have no need for the bathroom and I have no food in the kitchen. My room. In my room there is a bookshelf, a laptop and a bed. All three are interactive, I could use any of them. But I am tired so I decide on the bed. As I lie down I begin to think about all the choices I made today. Didn’t I always have a coffee in the morning? Head to class, ask a question. Have dinner in front of my laptop. I began to weigh my decisions over the last few hours. Could I have made different choices? At what point does life begin to imitate interactive fiction so much that all decisions are so binary? I will not answer these questions because the world, a.k.a. my computer, has no answers. Game over.