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|a game of chance (standard:other, 876 words)|
|Author: kathyg||Added: Nov 16 2006||Views/Reads: 1884/1049||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|life is a game of chance and the winners are the luck of the draw...|
She waits for the bus on this hot July morning. A feeling of luck swims in her veins today. She can feel it. "Where's that bus?", she checks her watch frantically, in a hurry, as always. She finds a bench in the shade. The street is deserted at this early morning hour and sun is unrelenting. The bus arrives at last and pulls up to the curb, opening the door with a rush. Climbing aboard, she takes a seat up front. Clutching her bag tightly, makes a mental list of its contents, a deck of cards and one thousand dollars. Taking out the deck, she shuffles the cards nervously, then puts them back in the bag. A gambler by nature, she has played this game before and must win today. Her whole body breaks out in a cold sweat. She takes out her mirror to fix her face. Her eyes are anxious. Why does she feel this sense of urgency? She senses someone or something aboard. The day of reckoning is here. The city skyline gives her a glimpse of sunshine but her mind is racing too fast. No one would ever guess what tomorrow will bring. Her hands are shaking . It is all there. She fans herself and looks around the bus. She notices an artist in the corner. He is not smiling either. He looks worried. She catches his eye and motions for him to sit by her. He approaches her seat and nods a cautious hello. "Are you playing your hand too?" she asked the artist. "Yes, I have one trick left to play." "I know.", the Artist replies. "How do you know?", she inquires, taking out the cards and shuffling them nervously. "Calm down, missy. Why are you so edgy?", he wonders. "I have to win today. I just have to!", she mutters quickly, fidgeting in her seat. "Is winning that important?" "Absolutely.", she replies, looking him dead on. "Okay, you win! You happy now?", he teases her. "The game hasn't started yet!" "I know I have been lucky at cards and I will win today!", she predicts for herself with a smug grin. "What makes you think you know me?", she asks. "Don't ask. I just know.", he answers with a smile. "What do you have in the case?" "I have my paints and brushes. It helps me relax and focus." "I wish I could paint.", the gambler whispers softly. "It's easy if you have the gift." "What gift?", she asks. "Talent." "Where do you get talent?" "You don't get talent, you either have it or you don't." "Your gift is your talent and your wits take a chance on it." "How do you know if you have it?" "You try your luck and you if you feel inspired, then you have it." "I know I have something, but I don't think it's talent." Click here to read the rest of this story (85 more lines)
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