photo by Matthew Fern
Weight for me. That’s what her note said. With a face as delicate and edible as spun sugar and a body as luscious as a wedge of cheesecake, improper spelling wasn’t exactly a deal-breaker. She fled six days ago. I’m still weighting.
My neighbor, Mitch, shuffles the deck. Poker night at the melancholy casino. His wife bolted two months prior and her departure is etched on his cracked face.
“She’s in the wind, man. A paper ghost. Let her go.”
He was right.
“Just deal the cards.”
He flicks his wrist. Queen of hearts.
A regal gun.
A red sniper.
We bust-out laughing, our neurotic cackle heavy with loss.
My entry in the latest Micro Bookends competition. Your story had to inspired by the photo above with a word count between 90 – 110. First word had to be Weight and the last word Loss. My story received an Honorable Mention this week.
Comment from David Borrowdale, the judge this week as well as the host of this lovely contest: “It starts with a fantastic title and gets better from there. “Weight for me” is a sneaky, yet original, use of the opening bookend, and completely believable from the woman described brilliantly as having “a face as delicate and edible as spun sugar and a body as luscious as a wedge of cheesecake”. The “melancholy casino” sounds like a grim place, but even there you can find humour.”