Bob felt the stares upon him as he walked up to the line. He closed his eyes and sucked in controlled breaths through his nose. He played the action over and over in his head. He could see the victory happen before he did it. He knew tonight would finally be his night.
The ball in his hand was a swirled blue marble of pure destruction. He had never owned a bowling ball like it in his life. It made him feel like a god with his fingers sunk into its eternal depths. This is the soul of the Earth, he thought. Nothing can stop it. He took his paces back from the line and eyed the lane before him. Ten defiant pins of white and red stood without mercy, without sympathy, and without fear. They must be destroyed.
Bob attacked the lane with a wonderful grace. He loosed the ball from his hand and followed through fully with the motion. When his body stopped he was reaching for the sky with one knee bent to the hardwood floor. He squeezed a fist with confidence.
Bob didn’t watch the ball roll; he didn’t have to. The night was his to own. The sound of thunder marked the collision and sealed his destiny. He looked to the scoreboard.
“Yes!” he shouted.
His friend gave a slow and steady clap. “Congratulations, Bob. You finally broke 100. My god, how did you ever do it?”
Bob smiled. “Make fun all you want. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Yeah,” said his friend, lining up to tack onto his score of 242. “Maybe now you can start beating some of the girls.”
Bob laughed. “Fuck you, Tom. Fuck you.”