A half-life.


I wake with a terrible hangover, a splintering headache, a strong sense of regret, embarassment and an awkward feeling in my stomach that I can’t seem to shift.


Unsettled glances across the living room.

“I’ll see you after work.”

The door slams shut. Bloody thing’s always slammed nomatter how gently I try to close it. The people below must hate me.

Back to sleep.


Start. All Programs. Steam.

Username: Cohaagen
Password: ******

Half-Life 2, starred, Metascore: 96.

Right-click. Launch Half-Life 2.


Stomach is paining me. Time to put the kettle on. Food: a luxury I can scarcely afford.

Or can I?



Bookmarks. Personal. Online Banking.

Balance: -£1,650.00
Available Balance: £0.00

No. No I can’t.

Earl Grey again. The bergamot makes my stomach churn and my brain tick over. It’s all I have. Back to my desk, Gordon Freeman’s right hand bobs from left to right. The tea is lukewarm now. I gulp it down. The longer it stays in my mouth the worse it tastes.

My stomach groans.


A phonecall.


A second phonecall. My heart has sunk. Back to sleep.


Tab. Hibernate Computer. Space.


That was the worst day.

I tried playing Half-Life 2 again today. I couldn’t last for any longer than fifteen minutes. It was too much.

Far too much.

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