The Secret Life of Nana
…sweet, frail grandmother was seated in a state-of-the-art, RGB-lit ergonomic gaming chair, surrounded by a glowing multi-monitor setup I had no idea existed.
She was wearing a massive, noise-canceling headset with a glowing microphone, and her frail, arthritic fingers were flying across a mechanical keyboard with the blinding speed of a seasoned esports professional. The screen illuminated her face in flashes of explosive orange and digital blue as she navigated a chaotic, high-stakes battle royale.
And then, I heard the shouting clearly.
“Flank right! Flank right, you absolute cabbage! I didn’t survive the Cold War just to get carried by a bunch of scrubs in silver tier!”
I stood frozen in the doorway, the heavy flashlight dangling limply from my hand. Beside her keyboard, where a cup of chamomile tea should have been, sat a half-empty can of an extreme energy drink and a plate of her famous snickerdoodles.
She executed a flawless sniper shot on the screen, watched a victory banner flash across her monitors, and finally ripped off her headset. She spun her chair around, entirely unfazed by my presence.
“Nana?” I whispered, struggling to process the scene. “What… what are you doing?”
She sighed, reaching over to adjust her cardigan. “Your internet connection down here is fantastic, sweetheart. Back at the retirement village, the ping was atrocious. You try holding down a top-500 global ranking on DSL.”
“You’re a competitive gamer?”
“By day, I knit scarves and bake pies because it keeps the arthritis at bay,” she said with a completely straight face, popping a snickerdoodle into her mouth. “By night, I dominate the servers under the gamertag KnitWitch99. Now, are you going to stand there catching flies, or are you going to grab a controller and help me defend this objective?”
I slowly put the flashlight down. The next morning, there were fresh blueberry muffins on the counter, just like always. But when I looked closely at her sweet, wrinkled face as she sipped her morning coffee, I knew the truth. Nana wasn’t just sweet; she was completely ruthless.
