Backbeat
( Closed starter for @ask-stevecarlsberg )
Thursday nights were usually busy for the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun complex. Over the past few years, that time had become a town favorite to meet with friends, grab a box of pizza (wheat-free, of course), and play a few games.
The Weatherman’s ball crashed into the center of the triangle of pins, sending them flying with an aquamarine clatter. He waited for the noise to settle into the muddy brown of other groups conversing in the background, and then threw up a hand in victory when he saw the two farthest apart pins left standing. “Yes, another split!” As he waited for the ball return (it took longer now that they had to route around that tiny civilization), he walked back to the table where his friend was seated. “What was it that you said you wanted to talk about, Steve?”
