by Harry Rabinowitz
“Can I take a look?” Rebecca asks me, gesturing towards the blue-screening copy of Mega Man III.
I open the lid of the Nintendo Entertainment System, a piece of equipment a little under a decade older than me, caress the cartridge of Mega Man III out of the system and pass it to Rebecca, a visiting videogame preservation expert. She flips the large square upside down. It rattles a bit.
“What’s that?” I ask. “Sounds like a bead or something.”
“It’s bad. Really bad.” She frowns.
Rebecca explains what the sound means. I ask more questions, naturally curious about games and a console I never had the pleasure of owning. It gets complicated. About a half-hour later I get the gist of it.
That copy of Mega Man III is dead. We won’t be able to get it to play anymore.
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