26-year-old Ryan Carlisle curses, nearly bumping his beige trilby against a paper lantern in shock. Where is it? He could have sworn he brought it with him.
Ryan digs frantically through his black, leather-strapped Herschel bag. It was just there. He could’ve sworn it was just there. He fans himself off by giving a few light tugs on the front of his off-white, short-sleeve, button-down shirt, patterned with little navy blue palm trees.
He sighs, placing one hand laxly in the pocket of his pastel pink khaki shorts. He usually loves spending an evening with his friends on the rooftop of a nondescript brick building celebrating nothing in particular. Anyone who follows him on Instagram knows that.
Aside from the various summer-themed decorations, the party’s main features seem to be a punch bowl and a variety of unusual dishes brought by attendees. The punch is just punch and the brownies are just brownies. Still, everybody smiles.
Normally, around this time is when someone would pull out their Nintendo Switch and they would spend the rest of the night on Mario Kart, or even Smash Bros, often in slow motion. But that won’t be happening tonight.
Suddenly, the busy street below disappears into a black void. The hip, fun music stops playing, and the chino-wearing, ethnically diverse crowd begins to disappear. Without the Switch, the very fabric of this rooftop scene has become unstable. The guests stare at each other with worried eyes as they begin to fade into nothing.
Suddenly, salvation: Craig has a Switch Lite in his bag. The chinos return. The paper lanterns shine brighter. Below, a woman walks her dog and a hybrid rolls through a stop sign. They sit on the couch and play Super Mario Odyssey. The sun shines.
Ever-present, the Switch Lite’s battery sits at 47 percent. Nothing can ever last.
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