I pass my lonely hours by playing solitaire. Not a digital version on the computer, but with real cards at the kitchen table. I've lost probably 95% of these games, but those cards comfort me. Or at least they did, until that one game when I flipped a card & saw the Ace of Crabs.
“That’s odd,” I thought. “I don’t even have a card like…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. The mere sight of the card was enough to put me in a trance. I sat there slackjawed for a couple of hours, unable to take my eyes off this unexplainable item.
It was there, right in front of me. The very card I chose. The Ace of Spades. He’s aced it. “Is this your card?” The magician grinned. Despite shivering in cold sweat I somehow managed to pull a poker face. “No,” I responded with a most assertive tone, “No, it isn’t.”
The befuddled magician wiped his brow with his scarf as he performed the final act. In a show of defeat, he drops the scarf-which surprisingly turns into a dove and flies away. A card flutters down. The seventeen of clubs. The Great Zambini bows to the sound of applause.