Author’s Note:

Animal

The video-game series Animal Crossing is almost unsettlingly addictive. When I’m in one of my (recurrent) Animal Crossing phases, the characters, at least in my mind, really come alive. I help them out with menial tasks, clean up their village, sponsor their local museum. I log on to celebrate holidays with them, late at night, after I’ve already celebrated with my real family and friends. After returning after a break of weeks, or months, or years, I feel a pang of vicarious loneliness for all the unopened letters in my mailbox—birthday invitations, heartfelt farewells. All of those characters that I’ve brought to life through anthropomorphization, trapped alone inside the world that I’ve created for them, while I’ve been able to travel, to grow, to live my life however I choose.

But eventually, I’ll shut down my Nintendo for the last time with my old, withered hands. What will happen to the characters then? What will they do when I stop playing? Forever?