Half a Day (Game Dev Pulp Fiction)

Week 2, Monday morning, just another cold day. walked between the white walls, my class room. still smells, the singe of dry wall paint. I took a seat at the corner, waited, waited. each of my class mates showed up one by one. all of us waiting for our boss to show up. and he did.

he walked in with a neutral but concerned face, the day's air felt heavy and silent. don't know why. well, the class began. he began by explaining the core concepts of planning, keeping track of your actions, footprints and potential future. In simple words design patterns.

He got time, enough time to mention, just only to mention, the three general structures of design patters, they are Creational, Structural and Behavioral design pattern. by then came the call, concern and hurry. he seamed to looks slightly worried. walked out of the room, the door closed behind him.

we were there, confused, concerned, worried. we decided to wait, wait till our artists to show up, and they did, at the hour of 3 o'clock. they came in, crowded in circles, we went in and broke the circles, talked to them, asked them of the update, and made plans.

Here I am again beside my coffee, but its different now, I am writing this from a new place, its colder here, faster and within the belly of a blind, mad and wild city. they call it Oasis but I call it a labyrinth. I had tasks, jobs to be shown, meetings to show up or else they will kick me out, that's what they said.

well I was tapping keys, forming words which acted like numbers, puzzles or a grand narrated play, common folks call it coding. I had a task to slice, shatter and destroy, 3D objects in a virtual environment, thank the one who know all. I did it, took help from a tutorial got a picture, started coding, it was done. pushed it to my partners, they cheered, not knowing what lays beneath.

To be continued...