A Trip: A Short Story Without "E's"
Similar to shadows of a dirty shirt, black cumulus clouds, abounding with rain, hangs fat across land and final hours of this train trip. An old match with a long history is playing out.
Clickity-clack. Clickity-clack. Clickity-clack. Clickity-clack. Clickity-clack. Clickity-clack.
“Boy! Good pumpkin tart!” Al said, wolfing it down.
“Cocky isn’t your suit, Al. Tummy happy now? Play your knight!” Don said.
“Oooh! Touchy. How did you know I was going to play that?”
“I taught you! This stuff is in my family’s blood, way back. I told you that.” Don’s look at Al was long as Al’s knight was slid into position. “Thinking about Tina?”
“Stop distracting, Don! I must think about what you will do.”
“You won’t win, you know.” Don slid his pawn forward. “Guard your king.”
“Shut up! I know what I am doing.”
“Okay! You do!” Don said with a shrug. “Still, I must ask. Why did you and Tina---?”
“I caught Tom and Tina kissing at last Thursday’s church fish fry. Satisfy your curiosity? Now, shut up!” Al slid his bishop forward.