Arthur didn't respond. He walked. Every step toward the ball felt like wading through deep water. He reached his lie. 145 yards out. An 8-iron.
The contact was pure. A soft click . The ball arched high, dancing with the breeze, and bit into the green ten feet from the pin. [S1E13] Breaking 80
Arthur stepped up. The silence of the course was absolute, save for the rhythmic thwack of a distant mower. He didn't see the trees or the sand. He saw the line. A tiny, invisible wire stretching 240 yards out. Arthur didn't respond
He took his stance. Keep the head down. Pivot. Follow through. dancing with the breeze
The air in the clubhouse usually smelled of stale coffee and expensive leather, but today, it tasted like copper.