Times are changing

Outside the apartment, wild yelling and thundering footsteps echoed up and down the hallway. A punctuating, dull staccato supplied an inconsistent rhythm to the cacophony. My instincts warned me not to investigate, but I rarely trust my instincts. I opened the door of my apartment. 

An abandoned brown sandal lay amidst a litter of nerf darts that trailed down the hallway. Several meters away, a tall, lean, long-haired dude was reloading a colossal nerf gun. He briefly glanced in my direction; concluding that I was only a civilian, he returned to the task at hand. I retracted my head from the doorway and locked the door. 

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