Life is a Story


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House of Cards – Fiction Friday

Oh, wow, that Haunted House sure was long winded. I wasn’t so sure I’d be here for the end.

I should have been allowed to go first. After all I am the one most likely to go up in smoke, oh, wait, the smoke house hasn’t gone, yet. Sorry dude.

I am a house of cards. My deck is an actual deck. I am made of the regular fifty two cards plus the jokers in a regular bicycle card deck.

I’ve been built and rebuilt several times.

The kid who puts me together is a bit of a loner. You almost have to keep to yourself if you hobby in building a house of cards.

A draft takes me down, a misplaced or jiggled card placed wrong, takes me down most often.

The kid has patience. I am not sure what kind of paying job he will end up doing but he has a steady hand.

He could work at repairing circuit boards but these days anyone can do that. Maybe he can work in a lab inserting the ingredients of a zygote.

Whatever he does I know he will have just the right touch.

One day a cat leapt up and knocked me down.

Another day he opened the window to a good stiff wind.

An earthquake of all things happened to me.

He has built me back up so many times the slick has worn off of my faces.

That is it, forgive my rush, but I know my time is limited. Who was next?

Really you want more, well, as long as I can keep myself together…

I have the usual components of black and red cards, diamonds, hearts, clubs and spades.

He has never played even a game of solitaire with me. The kid probably won’t become a gambler. Rummy, war, spades, hearts, poker, 21, nope. He just builds and builds to see how broad and how high he can get. To see how many cards he uses before I come falling apart.

A house of cards is insubstantial. A house of cards has absolutely no integrity. A house of cards is a fleeting thing.

Thank you all for listening I think I feel a draft, so everyone, give a ‘hand’ to the Smoke House, I think I woke him up.

House of Cards

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Don’t touch anything sharp!