Thursday 8/31/2006 10:16:00 PM

It was the nine of diamonds. Rows of cartoon robot eyes staring up at her. Unblinking.

She found it on the floor when she finally extracted herself his arms to procure a cigarette. The rest of the cards laid comfortably in their stack on the nightstand. The two halves put back together after their game.

It was the nine of diamonds on the floor. By itself. Juxtaposed against an argyle sock. His.

What it meant. That was anyone's guess she thought to herself as she flinched the flame out on the zippo. His heavy breathing still populating most of the neurons in her skull. Popping and cracking like dirty vinyl spinning awkwardly under a delicate needle. As the music sputters out in disjointed spasms. Like the last drops of water farting out from a dried up well.

The nine of diamonds. So unspectacular she mumbled to herself as she followed one of its corners back into his embrace. To listen a little longer to the sound of the blood playing hopscotch inside his chest.

she was ready with her pebble.

To play again.

2 comments:
I said...

argyle, ewwww.

Flood said...

I have loved this blog for so long. I was glad to see you place at TCON.



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