* ACCEPTING ALTERED REALTY PROMPTS .
it could be a dream. must be. or he’s just waken up from one and he can’t remember where it had taken him. he just knows it’s almost midnight and he’s staring out the windshield of his truck, blinking through the rain drops which had settled there. he must’ve been sitting here for a while because the truck was cold, parked within the lines of a near empty parking lot. keys rested in a limp hand. after a moment, he glanced down at them and wrapped his fingers fully around the object. he clutched them and then tried to make out where he was.
a dark parking lot. two or three cars aside his own. neon blasted red, white, and blue back at him through the sprinkle of rain. he could see a huge, maybe twenty - feet tall bowling pin. off white, with a red stripe. why here ? why a bowling alley late at night ? his mother used to take him when he was little. she’d fasten his shoes and let him roll the ball down the lane, leaving him to watch the pins drop while she disappeared into the bathroom for a while. felt like hours in that place. rolling over and over again, playing himself.
he decides to exit the car. pulling the collar of his jacket around his neck, minding the oncoming storm. it brewed behind him, the wind filtering through the trees. it felt like ages before he gripped the handle of the door. large, glass frames, tinted from the outside. and when he finally made it inside he was transformed into an 80′s disco. black light met neon, casting balls of light along the patterned carpet. ghosts and angels. made the whites of his shoes beam. he had gone through a portal, he’s sure of it. into some kind of purgatory ? his childhood memories morphing into a terrible dream. he wonders if there will be a monster at the end of this dream but he’s only greeted by a pimple faced teen who says, ❛ five for a lane, three for a shoe rental. ❜
adam was here, but he didn’t feel like playing. he nods at the kid, who pays him no mind. he just continues wiping down bowling balls, making them shine like the pupils of his eyes. adam wants to leave, turn back, and drive home. but he shoves his hands deep inside his pockets and walks a couple more feet into the alley. he scans the place, lonesome and quiet (despite the music). a pink halo of light dances down upon a circular booth belonging to one of the far lanes. there’s a girl sitting there ---- a woman, who glitters underneath the pastel light. she pays him no mind either, despite the two of them being the only patrons here. she keeps a drink in her hand. he could go for a drink. he could get drunk ---- drive home and pass out till morning. he was here for something. to figure something out. TO PLAY HIMSELF.
his eyes follow to the arcade. only three games that worked and one of them was pin - ball. he felt around for his wallet. nothing. empty. ❛ hey. ❜ he says, walking a couple more feet to greet her. hands still pocketed, feeling insecure, and vague. he keeps thinking this is a dream, but he’s never seen her before. ❛ you got a couple quarters i can borrow ? ❜