Free Single Player by Elia Winters

awards. Sure, they were juvenile awards, but they were nonetheless a recognition of his talent in science and technology. Back then, he already knew he was going to be a computer programmer, and his dream was to work in gaming. He was going to be at the top of his field. He remembered the passion and drive he felt to win this silly gold medal. Somewhere along the line, that drive had faded, and work had become something to pass the time.
    What kind of trophies had Silas won, now getting dusty in his mother’s attic?
    â€œMatthew? Honey, lunch is ready.” His mother’s voice echoed from the other room. Matthew left the rest of the pile unfinished.
    Latavia had always fancied herself a bit of a cook, trying to dress up even the most basic dishes. Today she’d made deluxe grilled cheese sandwiches for them with tomato, bacon, and avocado on thick-sliced bread, one of his favorite lunches.
    â€œMa, this looks great. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” He refilled his glass of tea and joined her at the table.
    â€œIt’s not trouble, Matthew, it’s a sandwich. Now, what’s new with you, honey, aside from work?” She waited until he was eating before she started on her own plate of food.
    â€œNot too much. Keeping busy. What inspired you guys to start cleaning out the attic?”
    She shrugged. “Just something we’ve been meaning to do for a while. Your father and I had a few days off together, and you know what they say, strike while the iron is hot.”
    â€œYou spent your time off together doing chores? You two should get away on vacation.” Matthew hated to see his parents working so hard. His father’s job was stressful enough for both of them, but on top of that, his mother was a middle school science teacher, and she didn’t get nearly enough time off for how hard she worked.
    Latavia waved her hand in dismissal. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Now, how’s that latest game coming? You were telling us about it last time you visited.”
    Conversation was light and pleasant for the rest of lunch, and his mother didn’t press him on the subject of his earlier distraction. An hour and a half later, having fixed the computer and finished sorting his old stuff, he took out the full trash bag and loaded the box of trophies and other memorabilia into his car.
    â€œYou can stay for dinner if you’d like, sweetie.” His mother gave him a hug and a kiss at the door. “There’s no rush.”
    â€œNo, it’s all right. I’ve got some things to do at home. Give Dad my love, will you?”
    â€œAbsolutely, sweetheart. Remember, don’t work too hard.” She waved at him as he drove away.
    The whole way back to his apartment, Matthew thought about the box of odds and ends in his trunk. He didn’t have a place to display trophies, especially not trophies from high school. He might leave them in the box. It felt too callous to throw them out, though, when they’d meant so much to him at the time. How much things changed. Back in high school, when he’d dreamed of his future, it hadn’t looked much different from his real life . . . but it certainly felt different.
    He liked his job, of course. He was happy. But with Silas in mind, he felt guilty about that happiness. He’d never looked at his lackadaisical attitude as wasting his talents or abilities before, but what if he was selling himself short? What could he accomplish if he really tried, took initiative in his field?
    These thoughts remained on his mind as he drove home through a late-afternoon Florida rainstorm, the drumming of rain on the roof of his car making him feel isolated from the world around him.

Silas blinked hard, trying to train his eyes on the computer screen. It wasn’t like him to be unable to keep focused when he was working. Normally he had great vision. No need for glasses, due to some