DavidGilmourLovers

Gathered around the tabletop were two men. Two sets of five cards between their hands, two piles of 16 next to each person; in the temporarily neutral space before them, two singles face down and two smaller draw piles next to those. Their hands were poised eagerly over the singles, one with lanky fingers almost quivering with anticipation, the other still as the surface of a secluded lake. Two additional men looked on from the sidelines: one held a cup of tea against his lips in one hand and a clean saucer in the other, just a few inches lower. The second was silently gripping the edge of the table with something akin to… fear? No, not fear, but… Excitement. Sapphire blue locked with emerald green. “Ready?” A nod. The thinnest of grins crossed a pair of full lips. Nick took a deep breath, glancing from one to the other, before he finally released them. “Go.” Time seemed to slow as the two cards were flipped, but as soon as their backs touched the table, the air was anything but

One evening David was scrubbing a particularly stubborn pot in the sink, cursing himself for having forgotten earlier to deglaze it while attempting a recipe for French onion soup, when he suddenly paused; he could’ve sworn the telephone had just rung. Hearing nothing, he resumed his laborious task with a shrug. The steel bristled scrubber slipped out of his hand and fell with a clatter into the sink and as he reached for it, he froze in place, once again wondering if he had heard ringing again. But, of course, the house was silent. “Hmmm…” He furrowed his brow and turned his attention to the dishes once more, but this time working at the burnt mess as quietly as he could. “I knew it,” he declared to himself as ringing filled the air. Plucking a dish towel off the oven door, he dried the suds from his hands before picking up the receiver. “Hello?” “Oh! Hello David! What can I do for you?” “…You called ME.” “Oh yeah.” David rolled his eyes: he could practically smell the alcohol on