The obnoxiousness of the bowling alley was overwhelming. Harsh lighting. The reverberation of incessant chatter and distorted music. The climatic wind-up of rolling balls as they thunderously cracked into the helpless pins. The roar of celebration.
I wanted to be anywhere but the lanes. The achiness I felt was imbedded deep within my core. My team was winning, but it was little consolation. I was exhausted, worn out. Maybe it was time to retire. Bowling had consumed my life. I needed a change.
“Your turn, Warner” yelled Jack. “One more strike and you got a turkey.”
I cringed. Another strike was beyond my capability.
Warner’s enormous hand yanked me from the ball return. He thrust his fingers into my three holes and assumed the position in front of the lane.
It was torture waiting for the toss. When it finally came, I felt as though I would shatter when I hit the wooden floor. The spin was dizzying. The collision with the pins was catastrophic. It was my final strike.
As I rounded the return, Warner let a moan of disappointment. My glossy green finish was disfigured by a gaping crack.
“Ah, man, Lucky Clover is cracked. He’s dead,” Warner said with regret.
I felt relieved. My career ended with a turkey, and now I could spend my retirement years as a crafty, embellished lawn ornament in the sweltering sunshine state of Florida.
This week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge is to use the third definition of the word…
3: three successive strikes in bowling
The story had to be between 33 and 333 words. I did it in 233 words. I hope you enjoyed my take on the challenge. I didn’t know what a turkey in bowling was until this writing prompt. It was painful to write.