The Game

A dense cloud of smoke fills the dry room. Just smile and nod, as long as they can't see, everything will be okay. Make or break, everything matters, it all counts now. Silent screams echo around the table, and a solemn statue sits in every chair. Brick by brick watch the walls go up.
The slightest shift of an eye, the movement of your chest, a twitch of your lips, don't tap your fingers, don't breathe too fast, don't breathe too slow, don't look up, don't look down, keep your eyes on the prize; just keep your calm.
Every move you make has every eye on you, each on of them working you over with a fine-toothed comb. The stakes are high, raised by a bluffing man, my future resting in my hands.
Two cards down, all around the table chips go in. Three people out, one more card down. Dealer burns one and twirls another in his hand, silently mocking our frustrations. One more card down, we watch the pile rise with eager anticipation.
Smoke fills my nostrils. Blink once, call. Blink twice, my skin feels hot. All eyes on me and then on to the next.
Don't exhale too fast; it's not over yet. Keep your cool, judge down the line, one person after the another, picking out the threats.
Last card on the table, two more people fold, this is it; my hand against theirs. This is the last hand of the night and I'm going all in. Dealer calls it, as I throw down my cards, "Royal Flush!"
A ten and ace smile back at me. The walls crash down and they all know, I was raised by a bluffing man.
"Good game tonight," the Dealer meets me at the door, handing me my check.
"I'll see you next week, Henry," I reply smiling as I leave.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback