Bryn Forbes Career High 30 Points Full Highlights (4/29/2021)

Bryn Forbes was walking down a seemingly infinite hall. The passage of time was marked only by his footsteps, and his only indications of forward progress were the occasional fountain on the floor or a bench along the wall that he walked past. But no matter how far he walked, he never reached an endpoint.

At least there was nobody there to bother him. True solitude was a rarity in his life, and he had to cherish it whenever and wherever he found it.

The circumstances of his arrival in this place were a mystery. If his brain held those memories, they were locked away from him. He suspected that he was dreaming, but the sensations and images of this dream were far more vivid than any dream he could ever remember having. There was open sky above him, and the cloud-draped sun delicately warmed his skin. Since when did dreams offer such minute and lifelike details?

And usually his dreams had a plot. There was such a distinct lack of plot in this place that it was jarring. All he felt was calmness and peacefulness. It was nice, but it was strange at the same time. Sitting down at the edge of a fountain and trailing his fingers through the gently undulating water, Bryn wondered when he would wake up.

“Welcome, Bryn, to the Hall of the Thirty Point Scorers,” said an unexpected voice. Bryn looked up to see a man clad in a white robe sitting down next to him.

“The hall of the what?” Bryn asked.

The man handed Bryn a robe similar to the one he was wearing. “Thirty Point Scorers. You do remember that you scored thirty, don’t you?”

Bryn put on the robe. It was impossibly, luxuriously soft, easily beating out the softness of the multitude of high-end robes he had worn while staying at various hotels. As he tied the length of golden rope around his waist to keep the robe shut, he thought about the man’s question. His life as an NBA player felt very far away, not just mentally, but perhaps spatially, as well. His accomplishments on the basketball court seemed meaningless in this place of ultimate serenity. “Yeah, I guess. So you must have scored thirty as well.”

“More than once, as a matter of fact,” the man answered proudly. “And for the same team that you currently play for.”

Bryn was not an expert on the history of the Milwaukee Bucks’ roster. “If this is a quiz, I’m failing it.”

The man’s face briefly showed disappointment, but it disappeared quickly in his smile. “I am Carlos Delfino, Appointed Guardian of the Hall.”

Bryn didn’t recognize the name. “Nice to meet you Carlos,” he said. “When do I wake up?”

“I receive that question often,” Carlos said. “And while I’m unable to give you a satisfactory explanation of the nature of the Hall, I am able to tell you with 100% certainty that what you are currently experiencing is no dream. The Hall is a real place. Where it fits in with the rest of what you understand to be ‘reality’ is of little importance.”

Bryn nodded, not feeling any closer to understanding. However, he was distracted by what sounded like the distant sound of screaming. And it seemed to be coming from the other side of the wall.

Carlos noticed it too. He got up and went to one of the windows. Bryn followed, noting that there was nothing past the stone walls of the Hall besides a light-filled, but matter-less, void. The screaming was getting louder, and with their improved vantage point, Bryn could tell it was coming from below them.

Suddenly, a human figure appeared in the middle distance. It was a man who seemed to be wearing a Houston Rockets jersey. His wild tuft of hair flowed behind him as he was pulled upwards through the void by some unseen force. His screams got louder as he drew level with them, but in his terror he didn’t notice that anybody was observing him. He continued to rise up towards the infinite sky, his screams getting softer and his body diminishing with distance until he disappeared.

“I wonder who that was?” Bryn asked.

“All I know is, you don’t get to go where he’s going,” Carlos said solemnly. “He scored fifty.”

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