Excerpt: Shunt

[Kevin] might have been distracted by the speed at which the obstacles flew at him, under and around his avatar's gleaming bike. But like most gamers, Kevin's focus was squarely on the task at hand, and the extraneous elements all merged into a blurry pastiche. And like all stoners, his focus on a single, meaningless task was unshakable.

With a stereophonic crash, the video game racer slammed into a stone wall. After a one-beat pause, Kevin reacted – a slight jerk backwards, a muted, “Shit.” He wanted to turn the game off. Maybe go take a shower and get some food. Maybe even pick up the phone and call a friend. He'd have loved to do any of that. He willed himself to turn his head and look at the phone, but his body wasn't interested in reacting, or maybe the message couldn't make it through the thick, blue, sweet haze in his mind. He reached down for his pipe and lighter, and pressed Start on his controller once again.

Pressing Start was one thing Kevin did well. Maybe the one thing. He'd started community college a few years ago. Started sculpting. He'd started a relationship with a woman, and started hanging out with friends. Eventually, though, things always seemed to careen into stone walls, and Kevin was left to press start again on something else.