Let’s get this out of the way: it’s too long. It’s a bit indulgent. And the turn midway towards meta-noodling about adventure game history feels like a misstep.

Self-consciousness, reflexivity, that earnest aboutness, it’s all real. It’s also a refuge. And unnecessary when characters and spaces are so rich and evocative on their own.

I’m from Kentucky, and this isn’t my Kentucky. But it’s a Kentucky. And the mythmaking here, the desire for revision, line by line, feels right. The past is not even. Our regrets weigh so heavy. Life is hard, life is mystery, and it’s always too late.