April Flash #20

based on prompts by haredawg: ten’ll getcha 20; a yellow dog knows when he’s sinned; starlings

The card table was one of those old, plastic 60’s era variety, peeling plastic layers upon layers, caked with dirt, spilled alcohol, gouges in the covering where things had been thrown, table knocked over, upended, uprooted. There was a film of gunk on it that couldn’t be wiped clean with the super-cleaning agents known to man, but it didn’t matter. It was part of the charm of the room, faded yellow in past sunlight, now alive with florescent lighting, a drip from the faucet in the sink that would never be repaired, the smell of stale smoke, old coffee and sweat permeating the small room. But it would never occur to any of them to play anywhere else. This was tradition, see. He chewed on the end of an old cigar before mashing it out in an overflowing ashtray, glancing over his cards across the table, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, rubbing his hand across the stubble of beard accumulated on his chin. “Ten’ll getcha twenty, son”

The younger man frowned, staring down at the cards like he could will them to change into something more palatable. He looked across the table at his father and found a matching smirk, plopping old, faded chips down on the table. “how about 40, then, old man?”

Eyebrows on both sides of the table raised up – one in challenge, one in incredulity. Bluffs were hard to come by these days, when two people knew each other so well. The father laid his hands down on the table, and sighed resignedly. “give it up son…a yellow dog knows when he’s sinned, and you’re bluffing”

The starlings were just staring to send morning calls to the gradually lightening sky as the sun smiled, teeth white in the dark as he laid his royal flush flat on the table. “good game, dad.”

new prompts: coffee grinds and gritty Tabasco; it’s simple really; letting go

Log in to write a note