I heard stories about people vanishing after sitting on an amethyst throne in the woods. Rich was a skeptic by nature, so I bet a hundred bucks if he sat on it he’d vanish. We hiked until we found the shimmering, iridescent throne sitting between two leafless oaks.
Rich brushed off twigs, acorns, and dead leaves. He wiggled his butt victoriously, crossed his arms, and plopped down. I felt the aching in my wallet. Rich guffawed at me.
On Sunday afternoons, all the adults in the village would gather by the town's fountain. It was the most important day of the week, because it was the only day of the week when the village was lively. As usual, someone was going to get hurt or killed. Today there were two armed candidates to die. John, a big, fat man, and Harry, a frail man, albeit a tall one. 3...2...1, bang, bang. Would you like to place your bets?
My ceramic piggy bank was broken. Coins rattled as the pea rounded the roulette wheel. Croupier brother taught me early to gamble my bottom dollar. He always won. I lost my way as the years passed. He’d be monopoly banker to get the pay the banker $50 chance card. He played the lottery, bet more than he won. Never learned his lesson. I stopped gambling, but took life chances, leapt before I looked; found Dios was with me.
My cousin Victor bet me 80 dollars that I could jump from one cliff to the other. The cliffs that were about fifteen feet apart, below was a gorge. The gorge seemed bottomless to me, except that it had a bottom.
Victor and I have been daring and betting each other since we were eight years old, so I took the bet.
Ace couldn’t read Phil’s eyes behind the cheap aviators. But the hole card’s reveal sent an undeniable message to old Phil. Ace couldn’t see dilation, but did see flushing, sweating, tachycardia. All tells to a pro. He put Phil on a big hand, folded his three ladies, kicked away a whopper of a pot. If only he’d known Phil was reacting not to his own measly pair of eights but to the morning’s breakfast burrito finally making its presence known.
PROMPT: BET
THE RED AND THE BLACK
Red or Black.
It was a difficult decision.
She took a gamble on black first, as that had always been one of her favourite colours.
But things didn’t go well.
So she switched to red.
And that was even worse.
Ultimately though, she still won the bet, because her friends had been convinced she wouldn’t have the guts to risk either.
And she’d proved them all wrong.
But in the end, she just went back to being a natural brunette… 😎
“Bet”
I heard stories about people vanishing after sitting on an amethyst throne in the woods. Rich was a skeptic by nature, so I bet a hundred bucks if he sat on it he’d vanish. We hiked until we found the shimmering, iridescent throne sitting between two leafless oaks.
Rich brushed off twigs, acorns, and dead leaves. He wiggled his butt victoriously, crossed his arms, and plopped down. I felt the aching in my wallet. Rich guffawed at me.
Then.
POOF!
Kinda mean to vanish your friend for a 100 bucks no? 😂
Perhaps
At the counter of Ray's Diner,
I savor my free breakfast,
earned by correctly guessing
the number of coffee beans
in the mason jar by the register.
Seven hundred forty-two exactly.
The regulars eye me with suspicion,
a modern-day Pythagoras
among the morning crowd.
Only the waitress knows
I've been counting those beans
every morning for three months,
my patience finally paying
its dividend in pancakes.
My 80mg of a Bet @Miguel S.
---------
On Sunday afternoons, all the adults in the village would gather by the town's fountain. It was the most important day of the week, because it was the only day of the week when the village was lively. As usual, someone was going to get hurt or killed. Today there were two armed candidates to die. John, a big, fat man, and Harry, a frail man, albeit a tall one. 3...2...1, bang, bang. Would you like to place your bets?
If you sit there, my pet,
Your life is forfeit.
The danger is all very real.
If you think I'll forget,
A surprise you'll get.
I'll not make any deal.
You might take the bet,
But I've never lost yet.
My intentions I never conceal.
I'll cast out my net,
But I warn you, my pet,
I intend you to be my next meal.
For a spider is set
In her ways, I regret,
And flies offer too much appeal.
That’s a good one Jeannine!
Thank you! It's funny how contemplation of a single word can stir the imagination!
80 mg Bet
Brothers. Geesh! Have you got one? I’ve got three.
They don’t think like sisters do, they compete about everything.
Mom, hospitalized after a serious fall, never knew. We all gathered to lift her spirits. The telling of tales began.
The boys shared things they bet on as teens, (Always one-upping).
From breaking into construction sites to drive a backhoe, to swinging across the road on a rope, barely missing the oncoming cars.
Was it worth the adrenaline? They’d say yes
I only have older sisters, but can confirm that with my best friends we were like brothers and we did a bunch of stupid stuff on a dare haha.
I have four, but I was almost as bad as they were...
My ceramic piggy bank was broken. Coins rattled as the pea rounded the roulette wheel. Croupier brother taught me early to gamble my bottom dollar. He always won. I lost my way as the years passed. He’d be monopoly banker to get the pay the banker $50 chance card. He played the lottery, bet more than he won. Never learned his lesson. I stopped gambling, but took life chances, leapt before I looked; found Dios was with me.
Better to learn early and run. Gambling is an awful way to ruin your life.
THE BET
by Sandy Shaller
My cousin Victor bet me 80 dollars that I could jump from one cliff to the other. The cliffs that were about fifteen feet apart, below was a gorge. The gorge seemed bottomless to me, except that it had a bottom.
Victor and I have been daring and betting each other since we were eight years old, so I took the bet.
I can do this with a running start, I thought.
I was wrong.
Another victim of gambling.
Ace couldn’t read Phil’s eyes behind the cheap aviators. But the hole card’s reveal sent an undeniable message to old Phil. Ace couldn’t see dilation, but did see flushing, sweating, tachycardia. All tells to a pro. He put Phil on a big hand, folded his three ladies, kicked away a whopper of a pot. If only he’d known Phil was reacting not to his own measly pair of eights but to the morning’s breakfast burrito finally making its presence known.
Haha. Phil for sure calculated with that and used the burrito for bluffing.
Now that’s a pro move