The Best Shuffler

the best shuffler:

he knew it was unreasonable to expect to win, after all, the odds were not in his favour. but he enjoyed playing was the thing, the whole ritual of the game, the shuffling of the six decks of cards at the beginning, the cut, and the deal, and the clearing away after each hand.

it was sometime in the afternoon. the room wasn't busy yet. come night time it would be heaving with bodies. there were the regulars there, those he saw every time he came it seemed, most of them elderly and quite rich he guessed.

he was alone at her table watching her shuffle expertly. "you're the best shuffler in here," he said. and it was true. he believed it. but she only smiled then but later, after he had won heavily, finally replied, "i really am the best shuffler!"

there was something about her. perhaps she reminded him of someone else he had once known, a quality reflected here in her.

time makes people in the past seem too distant. only sometimes when people seem familiar or act in the same way are we reminded of them.

CLEARCHARGE