253. Poker Face: Write about playing a card game.

365 Creative Writing Prompts

As I pulled out a chair and plopped down, a heart-felt sigh escaped. At last, what I had been waiting for all week was about to begin. As I drew in a deep breath, I promised myself that I would get it all back and then some; I rubbed my hands together. Expecting the moment my palms would be filled again. To reign in my wayward thoughts, I began carefully looking around the table at the faces I would stare at over the next several hours—if all went according to my plans and my luck held out.

On my left was Lucy. Laid-back Lucy, I’ll call her. She had that puffy hair that I was certain hailed from a distant past where beehives and the teased look were all the rage, but somehow it didn’t look ridiculous on her, but becoming. Her eyes spoke volumes to me so I would watch out for any tells there. Her hands were elegant with long, graceful fingers that were playing a light beat on the tabletop. Maybe she was as eager to get started as I was.

On my right sat a portly man. I was being polite—he was definitely in the ‘waiting for a heart attack’ to happen, but I did a double-take as I caught the look in his deep blue eyes—what I could see of them from under his large cowboy hat. He had shrewd eyes and seemed to catalog everything in sight. Hmm. One I needed to watch. Up to now, I had caught no nervous or impatient gestures. Mentally, I reminded myself to keep checking for any tells he may give away.

My hand rose to my chest, and I felt my heart rate speed up. This was that feeling I lived for—the rush I seemed to only experience here—when anticipation rises within me and I get that euphoric feeling. I can almost see it—colored notes from a music sheet, dancing, twisting, and turning in the air above my head. The person perched across from me snagged my attention from these frivolous thoughts. She looked young to be sitting at this table and if I wasn’t mistaken, possibly a little green, too. Maybe this was her first night at a place like this. Surreptitiously studying her, I noted her snaking shiny brown curls around the left index finger as she longingly looked down at the table. Hmm. Another one to figure out and keep my eyes peeled. Although I expected it to be fairly easy to find her tells. I drew myself up tight. I need to remember; not everyone has an agenda, right?

As I continued my perusal, my eyes jumped with her to the guy sitting on her right since he was squirming in his seat and unapologetically staring down her chest while faint color began creeping up his cheeks. Hmm. I like this one. He should be easy to lead around if he’s going to fall for that one—the breasts on display to distract technique. It was then that I reevaluated what I first suspected. Were the two in cahoots together? Hmm.

Once again, my gaze jumped, this time to the person on her left with her loud throat-clearing. Now, here was a person I was going to have to shove into my mental lock box, or her refreshing beauty would distract me all night. And she was breathtakingly beautiful. Looking a little closer, past her long raven hair and startling luminous turquoise green eyes, I could see a pinched look around her eyelids. Was she hurting? Sad? Mad or desperate? I would need to figure that out sooner rather than later.

“Tonight, we will raise the stakes to 100 hundred dollars. Everyone in agreement?”

All heads bobbed in agreement, and mine most rigorously. Here we go. I feel it, it’s going to be a killer night. I gave myself a little shake as my butt settled more firmly into the chair. I was ready. I was more than ready. I had been looking forward to this day all week, remember? Is that a bad thing? This almost compulsive need I feel to be here. This feeling of finally being alive like I hadn’t been all week. Only here could I feel this way. Do I need to help? Stop being distracted by the voices of my family bouncing around in my head. I vigorously shook my head. Time to pay attention. My pay check depended on it. I don’t need Gamblers Anonymous—no matter what my family has been whispering behind my back for months—do I?