Dad’s tools, sprawled. Stacks of cards from Mom’s funeral.
No one opens the blinds, decorates for holidays. Friends stay away.
Dad tries. Frozen pizzas, throwing the ball around.
Suddenly it’s Spring again.
He’s cleaned. Hung a family picture. Unwrapped a deck of cards: learn the rules as we go.
Dealt me one. “Aw, too bad.”
Next day: “Nope.”
Hopeful, somehow, with this ritual.
Today, I got the Queen of Hearts. Dad’s face slackened, like Mom’s at the end.
“Going out to the field for a smoke now.”
I was stuffing my feet into my shoes when I heard the shot.
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NYC Midnight 100-word Round 2 passing story: Constraints:: Genre: drama / action: dealing cards / word: somehow
JL 
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