Fling

Rather remarkable, isn’t it? Finding things exposed to the air and warping at the oxidization?

The colour changes, the texture changes and before you know it, you’re taking chances that even you weren’t aware you understood. In fact, you still don’t.

The simplicity of the matter is that if you do not keep things guarded and secret, others will go flying about, news to the wind to be spread, exposed and prone to gossip.

But what if you keep your cards close to your chest? The diamonds meld with the hearts and the clubs with the spades, shapes no longer distinguishable just blurs of red and black. Your back arches as the slight draft from the distant ventillation system sweeps against your bare back. You shiver faintly, your skin rippling into silver tremors as the tendrils of air sweep it. You glance down at your cards, long lashes falling softly onto your cheekbones and you smirk.

You toss your hand onto the table, folding your arms in a perfect image of smug victory. The cards have been kept close until the very end, playing up the triumph of secrecy in a delicate and dimond way.

Touch down.