I can't believe they tore down the old theater to put in an arcade. It's kind of an eyesore...
These two characters are in conversation. The old man on the porch scrunches his nose under his glasses and folds up his newspaper, placing it down on the glass table next to him a little too forcefully. As he speaks his face turns darker and darker red.
These damn ARCADES are just CASINOS for kids. Ugly, loud, and downright immoral. Each time another one of them goes up crime rates skyrocket, the way I see it. Not to mention the grid. This is an old town! Those lines are meant for CRT televisions, refrigerators and air conditioners.
He spits on the ground.
And, you know, my project. I can't even turn it on the garage until after hours without blowing the whole block out of power.
At this he seems tender and sad.
The young woman sets her drink on the table next to the old man. She turns around to sit on the top step of the porch and with a deep sigh she shrugs as looks out across the road.
Seems that considerate neighbors are a big ask for this town.
The ice in the glass clinks. A bead of sweat drips down the side.
The window air conditioner sticking out of the window next to the two chairs on the porch sputters and dies. The hum of electricity dissolves in the air and suddenly it is quiet save for the clink of ice in the glass.
Well, shit.
The neon lights above The Arcade flicker once and seem to shine brighter.