He pressed 'E' to mount the machine. The engine sputtered to life with a satisfying, gravelly roar. As he lowered the deck and engaged the blades, a sound like a thousand tiny scissors began to purr. He pushed forward.

"Ah, the pull-cord’s gone stiff, Arthur. My back isn't what it used to be."

One night, he found himself tackling the "Castle Grounds" expansion. It was a massive, sprawling estate with steep hills and intricate flower beds. One wrong turn with his 72-inch deck and he’d crush a digital petunia, incurring a $50 fine. He moved with the precision of a surgeon. The sun set in the game, casting long, golden shadows over the virtual hills. Arthur realized he hadn't checked his phone in four hours. For the first time in decades, his mind was quiet. The Zen of the Blade