Gamblers

roulette-5309373_1280

By Yash Seyedbagheri

Mother and Dad were gamblers. They gambled fortunes, then my older sister Nancy’s collection of Nabokov. They gambled the grand piano, the typewriter Nancy bought me for my fourteenth birthday. They gambled until the house was bare, with asylum-like walls. They finally gambled my sister and me. My sister went with Mr. DiCenzo, Dad’s friend. I went with our Episcopal priest. We pleaded to be kept together, my sister trying to shield me. They refused, tearing us apart, coldly. One night, my sister rescued me. We tried to retrieve all we lost, but stopped. We knew when to fold.

              
“I write to haunt readers and myself. I’m a graduate of Colorado State’s MFA program in fiction, I consider myself a Romantic.” – the writer

One thought on “Gamblers

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s