365

may.8.22

Currently sitting in my work staff room, waiting for the clock to hurry up so I can go home. So, since I have to be here, let me describe the ambience around the room, to pass the time.

There are other people in here, too; they're waiting for the time to pass like I am. They're trying their best not to realize the doom they're in, so they play cards and sip on staff room hot chocolate and tea. They're on a master tournament of crazy eights, and cuss words are prominent, if not encouraged. Spades seem to be the suit of choice, and while clubs are alright, hearts are worse – diamonds are a cuss word's calling card.

After the first shuffle and deal, there's a moment of silence; cards are rearranged in each person's hand, visualizing luck and victory before its given. The top card is drawn, and the cussing resumes. Laughter and cuss words fuel every game, and every hand. "Pick up two" starts a war, always, and they like picking on one unfortunate soul every round.

The call of "last card" makes the nerves go up, and the hand with the most usually ends up dropping as many as possible. More giggles and more cusswords.

One of them asks – much after the fact – if anybody listening in and not playing, is religious, or has an aversion to profanity. As listeners assure them it's alright, that their sailor tongue is amusing more than anything, the swearing presumes in full bore.

Hot chocolate cools as the game ensues, and the queen of spades is an omen and a curse. Add that to the "pick up two" constant scenario, and the giggles and cuss words explode.

They'll continue this until the wee morning hours, until they're off. They don't mind it; if playing cards can pass the time, and take a person out of the dreaded life they're living, then the cards will play on.