Me? I'm the black sheep of the family. I'm nearly thirty. When I was a teenager all my uncles and aunts would pat me on the back and say stuff like "you'll find your own thing soon; don't fret". By the time I turned twenty and still hadn't stumbled onto anything, they'd stopped waiting for me to leave the room before starting the worried muttering. By the time I was twenty-five, I'd pretty much been written off as the family embarrassment. The worst part was the condescending speeches: "Oh, it's okay; being a wizard is no big deal". "Really, you're lucky not having access to this almost limitless power". "Look at it this way: you don't have to worry about continuing the bloodline, so you can marry whoever you want". Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's really tiring--
But that's not the important part. The important part is this.
Yesterday after work, I was feeling a bit lazy, so I decided to pick up something to eat at home. I'd heard of this pizzeria that'd supposedly been around for ages, so I decided to give it a shot. When I got in there it was like I'd stepped into a time machine. Don't get me wrong--they used electric ovens and everything, but there was something about the atmosphere that make the place seem old. Real old. But not in a bad way. More like a cozy way, if that makes any sense.
Anyway, I ordered my pizza, and decided to check out the arcade in the back while I waited. Now, I say "arcade", but it was really just three machines set up in a corner. No light guns, no rhythm games--this was stuff from the eighties: a maze game, a shooter, and a pinball machine, all with dust an inch thick. I didn't feel like staring at a screen, so I decided that pinball would be my time-killer. Well, I was right about that, at least.