THE WAGER
The table was fully set, with a
blue cloth laid under, and sunlight
through the French window came
streaming. Damask, white lace,
and fine China, all stretched upon
a glass-topped shelf. Bitter-crisp, the
patterned carpet drew the shapes, and
nowhere was an object out of place.
-
The room, a wide expanse, seemed
kissed by circumstance - a fortune
one happened upon by accident. But
was it meant? 'A wager,' he replied,
'that I'll live to see tomorrow.'
-
I sat and pondered as he spoke, and
watched his face in shadows gamely
sport. I nodded, now realizing in his
fortune, as he lived, his time was
spent in grim consort with darkness -
the spray of losing minutes as the
hearse sped on its way.
-
'I'll wager,' I bespoke, 'I'll wager you
won't see another day.'
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