Every time Terry turned a card, Lana felt a rush of adrenaline. This, she thought, was what it must be like to be high. On top of the world with all the cards in the deck stacked in your favour.
She’d been coming to sit at Terry’s table twice a week for a year. Silver, the plastic kind, crossed palms and the game would begin. Lana just couldn’t get enough of it.
‘I’m still heading for a winning streak then, hey Terry?’ Lana smiled as the last card was flipped over.
‘Hang in there, it’ll work out,’ Terry agreed as Lana got up, ‘Same time Thursday?’
As Lana walked away, Terry swept the scattered cards of his Tarot deck into their pouch, adding the card he kept hidden up his sleeve. So gullible!
He couldn’t risk her knowing how much The Fool wanted to reveal itself to her.
© Alison Pearce 2009
Second Entry for Flash Fiction’s 15th of September challenge
Prompt – This one was used for the accidental prompt that went up – Gambler’s Synonymous
Word Count – 150
Another bit of light humour