A Short Story Collection
Bloober’s large eyes were set on the dark silhouette, beside a glooming structure, elevating a couple hundred yards ahead. The dust-filled wind played with his dark leather cloak as his green bulbous body slid over the rough surface, leaving a trail of thick sludge behind.
Seen, heard, felt anything, scout?
Sahaen’s telepathic question popped up in his head like a vague thought.
Sound detected, approaching objects’, report follow.
The bet was crazy, like the look in the Major’s grey, bloodshot eyes. Jack couldn’t help it, not if he wanted to leave in one piece. The droid whirled as it prepared to throw that last, life-changing, card on the table. With a pop, the card flew through the air, thick of smoke and anticipation.
Nine of Spades.
The room roared. The Major sprung up on unstable legs, sending his chair crashing to the floor. Jack swallowed, chuckled and felt his jaw relaxing. It was over – the pot was his.
He looked at the girl. She greeted him with pinched lips and faint furrows on her forehead. A silent tear escaped her alerted eyes.
“Am I free to go now, daddy?” She asked.
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· Copyright © 2015 by Ken Bergman All Rights Reserved ·