Nine-twenty-two-a.m. Just up from a fitful night's sleep, frustrating restlessness leaded in my head and holed up there now to stay—I hope not all day.

In a mid-night dream I caught myself imagining the controls in my hands and the figure on the skateboard doing what I made it do. Just a fantasy, but my body didn't fake the tension. Afterward I tried to think about other things but they all became vert skaters. I counted the number of playing hours last night and concluded only three. What must gamers dream after entire days on the machine?