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Seventeen

By , Winchester, VA
Her hands hold nothing of use as she sits on the small old oak chair, facing her opponent. She breathes in slowly, counting, one, two, one, two, then releases. Picking up a king to match the jack and queen in her hand, she discards a seven of spades, retreat she sees as her best option. The female across from her smiles as her eyes assess the situation, probably realizing she was going to win, if not this hand, then surely by the next couple. She draws a card, keeping any emotion locked behind her eyes, yet, even with the smile that had played upon her lips; she just discards a three of clubs.

Assessing her hand again, seeing what card she could discard or what card she needed she reaches out a lightly tanned hand to the deck, touching the smooth texture of the top of the card and seizes it, hoping it will become of use. Luck strikes again and a light of hope builds in her stomach, but instead of playing out she discards the two of hearts and waits her opponents choice. Her opponent reaches out for yet another card, the smile not on her face anymore, but a grim determination, whether she feels her rivals luck or just as a trick to dismantle any domineering hope, is unknown. She smiles, showing all of her teeth and then places her hand down

“Full house, you lost,” her opponent says with a confidence.

All she does is chuckle softly and shakes her head, placing her hand down finally, “Actually, you lost. Royal flush of Hearts, pay up.”

Her opponent pushes back her chair, stands up and pulls out the money she owes and stalks out of the room. The heat of the embarrassment is almost noticeable as she walks out the door, every other opponent watching in fascination.

“Who wants to play me next?”





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