Ricochet

The idea is simple — a ball bounces off walls, you control it, and you're trying to make something meaningful out of it. Ricochet from 1993 is a minimalist logic arcade for DOS that, after its opening animation, looks like something a first-semester computer graphics student could have made, yet it grabs you by the throat and won't let go all evening.

You control a tiny dot moving across a grid, trying to collect other dots scattered throughout the level. Between it and the goal stand walls, their combinations, and time — the ball moves on its own, you just decide the direction. The physics are basic, almost too basic, and that's exactly the trick. The combination of limited movement options creates tension like a roller coaster. It's not about reflexes, but about calculating three moves ahead and realizing the moment before the ball hits a wall that you've messed up.

Graphics completely unconventional — lines, squares, occasional stripes in the background. It looks like a sketch on paper with the quality of a 1987 printer. Sound exists, it's more like a collection of electronic tones that remind you the computer was dragged out of a coma yesterday. It's not beautiful, it's not modern, but that's exactly why all your attention is on the logical solution, on that quiet satisfaction when you finally beat one level.

Ricochet hasn't aged badly because it never had any ambition to be anything other than what I've described. In the nineties, there were plenty of games like this — indie before the word indie even existed. Today you can play it in an emulator or in a browser like a moth gone crazy for light.

When you feel like playing something without a story, without graphical effects, without needing reflexes, but requiring logic and patience, Ricochet is exactly what you're looking for. Don't expect a miracle, expect simplicity that slowly turns into obsession.