Small storefront, black curtains in the window
Depressing.
A neon sign
Fun...al.
She entered
A long hallway, no carpet.
Nervous
One foot in front of the other.
Her heels clicked on the linoleum
Light came from a little office at the end of the hall.
End of the line
A game blast through tinny speakers.
Crowd cheers
Yankees -Met's.
A Voice. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. He scores. Yes."
Winning run
Another voice, "He almost had him, almost."
Luck was a lifelong Yankees fan
Loved all sports.
He bet on everything, and won most times
Gina could feel him walking beside her,
down that narrow hall,
toward the office, toward the light.
Voices from office, "I won, pay up Met's fan. One hundred dollars."
"Damn. give me a few days to get the money, bro."
"I want my money now. No excuses."
"Okay, but I might have to rob the Rice and Noodles, next door."
Laughter
"I don't care if you have to sell first born son."
She knocked on the office door
Two men, their stocking feet resting atop their desks, eating Chinese.
Rice and noodles
Caught by surprise
"I called about funeral arrangements."
"Gina, right?" Said the winner pointing his chopsticks at her.
He rose, wiped his hands on his pants, extended a thin hand in greeting
Strong grip.
I'm Martin
"I've come to bury my husband, Martin."
"Well, you come to the right place." Said the man who lost the bet
Lucky smiled, even laughed
Gotta love the irony.
For the last time
Gina felt him standing beside her,
in that narrow hall,
outside the office, bathed in light.
About the Creator
David Parham
Writer, Filmmaker, Digital artist.
The ever Changing Complexities of Life, Fear, Mysteries and Capturing that which may not be there Tomorrow.
Complex, Change, Fear, Mystery, Tomorrow & Capture. Six reasons I write.
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