This post is intended to be weird so if you are too obsessive, don't read it.
This came to me because of a dream.
My brother and I are fighting a SB AoR game in which I have set up a particularly brutal crossfire across open space in front of an objective. I have two quad 20's. Many points are accrued for the Nazi side. The Russian attack is broken.
I dream that night of those open hexes littered with fallen weapons icons.
I do not dream of little cardboard squares or computer game sprites.
These games are a representation of a reality that existed at a specific point and place in time that was occupied by real people who were playing a deadly game (choices and consequences) in which they might have invested . . .something (spiritually/emotionally/mythically valuable) . . .that might have gotten stuck in that lost time and space.
Perhaps, when a SB turn is played just so, with the just so attitude, and a little pot or booze or cigarette or coffee maybe, reality (the deadly game), just might repeat.
With a new observer.
Me. Maybe you too.