Went to see a film on Sunday. Changed my mind at the door. Was about to head home, but then I saw the new bowling alley.
It looked awful. Full of birthday parties, work outings, couples on dates.
Everyone seemed to have brought a child or a drink. Laughter ricocheted off plastic seats. Pins fell like they were trying to escape.
Bowled three games. Got a couple of strikes. One of the balls clattered horribly when it rolled. I adopted it.
A man in the next lane threw his ball really hard, then looked around at his mates like his masculinity depended on it. He got a strike and shouted.
“Boom.”
His friends cheered. I nodded solemnly, like I’d witnessed something profound.
Went for a mooch about the arcade. Spent a while at the claw machine. The toys were all off-brand animals with loose stitching and haunted eyes.
A group of kids were feeding coins in. Failing, one after the other.
I hovered nearby, looking indifferent.
When they gave up, I stepped in. They watched on as the claw dropped, twitched, and caught a frog in a football shirt that said CHAMP10N.
Raised it in their direction. Brief. Regal. Like a champion might.
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