The rush spread across her body, trailing its hot sparks
and igniting her heart. The heat sent shivers down her back
as she looked down at her hand.It was garbage, the worst imaginable.
Her defeat was immediate but the risk her opponent might
have something worst, the thought, the idea, the prospect?
It dangled off the edge of her mind's sanity and rationality.
Her side of the table was empty of her circular life, the black to
her partner's white. Her sharp red and gleeful gaze examined her
opponent's orbs filled with confidence. She was standing on the
lower end of the see-saw, her opponent gracefully tipped on
the other end, staring down her defeat and his own victory.
'This is adrenaline.', she thought, hands clamped together.
It was morphine, it was ecstasy, it was crystals. She did not care,
she was grateful to her opponent, for giving her her high.
It was the feeling of taking a test,having not studied for it.
She loved the uncertainty, like watching a juggler on a tight rope.
What should she do? She was going to raise. Raise the stakes,
raise the risks. Raise her high. Smiling like a clown, she put
her life on the line. And she was happy. Happy to be able to play
and bet. The cards were flipped. A cry filled the air. A pose of the
devil took over her body. A laugh filled the air. The crumpled
form of him laid across the floor. Her heart began pounding.
Gasps escaped her heaving form.
She took the risk and she won. She would never get used
to that feeling of winning something unwinnable.
YOU ARE READING
The Story Book Project
Short StoryA collection of short stories written throughout my end of year holidays as a challenge set for myself. Ultimately, I need to finish 25 stories each consisting of 500 or more words. Contains a little bit of this and a little bit of that. I will try...
