Please dear bowler, the machine said over and over, here’s a clean slate | column Wieberen Elverdink

It was on a non-descript industrial estate on the outskirts of a Western town, across from a thrift store and a metal company; a small bastion of amusement in a shed, the entrance of which was guarded by two earthenware lions, as if they were a Chin. Ind. Spec. Rest.