Number Eight

New Mexico Woman

Edges of cards and poker chips flash forward in a mind and dice roll along the edges of both, sliding along the shiny leather shoestring of win or lose. Money is flung across and the dice fall. Now Mary must make a gamble, did she win or lose?

With one word, a bullet pierced through her chest, hitting her heart. Huh, it seemed like she won.

Skin of a hand met chilled metal of a gun and a finger wrapped around the trigger, slow in the backward ease of pulling it back. One squeeze followed another, the form of release and squeeze tugged back and forth in the motion.

Ears hooked onto a firing sound that repeated itself over and over until eyes gathered pieces of a broken egg that laid on the ground.

Straight lines created by the running of a chicken had a gaze dart to focus on the animal. Lifting her head up the Chicken's black soulless eyes peered up at Mary.

With crossed legs Mary sat on the floor while she stared down at the chicken. Moments passed and oily eyes casted themselves down to the remains of an egg.

With pecking bites the chicken started to eat and get her fill. Once she was done she lifted her wing and groomed herself, a dirty beak leaking with juices ran through feathers. Then she bopped her head a couple times toward the night sky.

Blowing air from lips, Mary watched the chicken raise her wings and flap them a couple times. Once the dust died down, Mary closed her eyes at the sight of two poker card that was pooled around a yellow lake of sticky yolk. Picking both up she held them in her hands.

Two cards of four equal eight, not the best number in the world.

That the current hand that she had as she gave another dry glance and scowled at the familiar sight. Even halfway on her face, it did nothing to stop Rafael from smiling at the sight. What did have him stop smiling was a hard tap on the table.

Numbers signed with a red scarlet pen decided her fate by the time the cards flipped over. Painted on X's glowed hot on the inside of her eyelids as she witnessed all of it happen in a lifetime of gnat flies. She won

With wide eyes, the dealer grabbed all the cards and with the quietness of a barn mouse started to shuffle them. Fredeni listened to the roaring noise of the shuffling cards as she thought and pondered on a single question: Why did she do it?

There's an answer etched in her brain; this wasn't about the prize, it was about the opportunity. A lucky chance at that, investing into a partner would've been smarter than to let herself not go through the trouble.

Trouble in this form is special yes, though money is greater than that. Money is something more and something better, an actual reward for her hard work and effort as she takes the stakes higher and higher.

And the definition of a bad person wouldn't be a winner right? She's still human and a person of society, so does it really matter if she won a wife in a game of twenty one?

No, she decided. It doesn't.

A world that let you do this in the first place, the begging and release for a prize that it just had to make her addicted to it. It's a sick joke and she found a scratch of a laugh building up in the back of her throat as she witnessed a shove that had the girl stumble toward her.