I wrote this short story a few years ago after being inspired by playing cards on a cafe table. I thought it better to share with you rather than leave it stewing forever in a forgotten folder. If you enjoy it please share it with friends. Thanks – Rory
The Four Queens
My grandmother was a wise and wonderful woman with a small body and a big fat laugh. Some people have a touch of magic about them, a twinkle in their eye that suggests they have seen life’s secrets and delighted in them. She had more than a twinkle, her eyes danced. They were filled with adventure, deep wisdom, and mischief.
She would welcome friends, old and new, to her little front room and let hours roll away over several cups of strong tea (she had no patience for pale tea and was very particular that the colour should be that of ‘a tanned stocking’).
If somebody was troubled she would listen carefully and not speak a word until they had finished. When all was said, a few moments passed as the story hung in the air between them, like a balloon waiting to be popped. Eventually my grandmother would offer a few carefully selected sentences; often words of comfort, sometimes a nudge towards action, always delivered softly and with no expectation that her advice be followed. It seemed to me that everyone walked away from her front door a little taller and feeling a little braver in a world that looked a little brighter. Well almost everyone. She was sneaky too.