Tuesday Screenshot

Dan Pinkham, 26 March 2013

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Far Cry 3

I couldn’t help but stop for a minute and take in the magnificent view, but in all honesty I needed the rest. My lungs burned and my chest heaved as my body strained to take in enough oxygen. I had been running for what seemed like an eternity. The gun I held now and barely knew how to use, I had taken from one of the men who were pursuing me. His friends, now enraged by his death at my hands, were filled with blood lust and sought only to give me an agonizing death. On the ridge as I briefly rested I could see the black smoke rising from the camp where I had first encountered the men. I had been hungry and foolish and only managed to escape by slitting the sentry’s throat with my rusty knife and taking his gun. As I finally caught my breath, I took one last look at the beautiful landscape. I heard the angry shouts of men in the trees below as I turned and began to run down the backside of the hill. As I ran I remember thinking how unreal it was that such a serene paradise could breed such ugly violence.

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