Five poker cards lie on the wooden table. I take them and slowly look at them. The first is a jack of hearts, the second is a Joker, and the third is… a joker too. With a strange feeling running down my spine I discover the two remaining cards: two more jokers. I place my cards back on the table and turn to look at the other players.
The enormous eye of the chameleon sitting on my right moves mechanically watching my movements. He opens his mouth and with his long tongue holds his cards and devours them. To my right, an Aboriginal man wearing a wooden ceremonial mask painted with colorful animal features stands motionless while fire ants sprout from the mouth and eye holes of the mask. The ants descend down his arms to the table, taking the cards and placing them in the hands of the aborigine.
In front of me sits a man in a black habit, the hood hiding his face in deep darkness. A chandelier hanging from the ceiling emits just enough light for us to see each other. We are surrounded by total darkness that does not allow us to see anything beyond a meter away.
The person in the black habit raises his skeletal left hand and slowly releases sand that falls onto the table, creating a small mound. Then he raises his right hand, a human hand, and brings his index finger to the level of where his mouth should be.
“Shhhhhhhhhhh…” A gust of wind emerges from the shadows of his hood, scattering the sand and extinguishing the lamps, leaving everything in complete darkness.
M. Ch. Landa
