Entrance for John House
John House stood, feet planted shoulder-width apart, his golf club held firmly between both hands as he eyed the sloping expanse of the golf course before him, peering at the distant flag at the 13th hole.
"Come on, House, swing already!" one of his golfing buddies laughed.
John smirked and glanced back at him, shaking his head. "I'll swing when I'm good and ready, Carter."
He turned back to the ball, glanced to the flag in the distance and back, swung his club back, and teed off. With a light crack, the ball flew into the distance, veering slightly to the right, into the woods bordering the green.
"Hmm," said John, squinting after it as it disappeared.
"Looks like today's not your day for golf," said Carter, slapping John's shoulder. John frowned.
The group picked up their bags and started off toward the next hole. John headed in the direction of his ball, sure he'd be able to find it; he had a good idea of where it had landed. But after a few minutes of walking through the brush, he was beginning to get frustrated. He supposed he should just forget about it -- it was just one golf ball but... He was sure he couldn't have hit it that far off course. He kept walking, ignoring his friends.
Something caught his eye through the trees: something much bigger than a golf ball. It looked like... some kind of store, or hotel? Yes, it looked like a hotel.
"Good lord, they're just building these goddamn things all over the place," he muttered. Everything was becoming industrialized, commercialized. They'd certainly been quick on this one. He'd never seen the construction or anything. Curious, he walked closer.
He thought perhaps he would just go in and find out some information about it -- who had decided to erect it in the first place, for one thing, and if there had ever been any sort of vote about it. As he entered the main lobby, he glanced back through the glass doors and was amazed to find that... he could no longer see the golf course. He couldn't even see the woods: just desert, as far as he could see.
Utterly perplexed, he stood, gaping.
"Come on, House, swing already!" one of his golfing buddies laughed.
John smirked and glanced back at him, shaking his head. "I'll swing when I'm good and ready, Carter."
He turned back to the ball, glanced to the flag in the distance and back, swung his club back, and teed off. With a light crack, the ball flew into the distance, veering slightly to the right, into the woods bordering the green.
"Hmm," said John, squinting after it as it disappeared.
"Looks like today's not your day for golf," said Carter, slapping John's shoulder. John frowned.
The group picked up their bags and started off toward the next hole. John headed in the direction of his ball, sure he'd be able to find it; he had a good idea of where it had landed. But after a few minutes of walking through the brush, he was beginning to get frustrated. He supposed he should just forget about it -- it was just one golf ball but... He was sure he couldn't have hit it that far off course. He kept walking, ignoring his friends.
Something caught his eye through the trees: something much bigger than a golf ball. It looked like... some kind of store, or hotel? Yes, it looked like a hotel.
"Good lord, they're just building these goddamn things all over the place," he muttered. Everything was becoming industrialized, commercialized. They'd certainly been quick on this one. He'd never seen the construction or anything. Curious, he walked closer.
He thought perhaps he would just go in and find out some information about it -- who had decided to erect it in the first place, for one thing, and if there had ever been any sort of vote about it. As he entered the main lobby, he glanced back through the glass doors and was amazed to find that... he could no longer see the golf course. He couldn't even see the woods: just desert, as far as he could see.
Utterly perplexed, he stood, gaping.