Read Midnight Solitaire Online
Authors: Greg F. Gifune
Midnight Solitaire (18 page)
“You sure?”
“Yes I’m sure. Don’t you trust me?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Should I?”
The wind howls, blowing snow about between them.
“You think he got to me?” Greer asks evenly. “You think he wore me down, confused me and tricked his way into me at the last minute?”
Kit watches her closely but offers no response.
“Maybe you’re the one,” Greer says. “You’ve got the crystal.”
“I wish I could hear what Doc heard.”
“The angels…”
“Yeah,” she says as clouds of breath dance around her. “Even if it’s not real, I still wish I could hear it. Just once.”
Greer notices the knapsack. “Managed to save that, huh?”
“It’s got my novel in it. My laptop was destroyed so this is the only copy I have left.”
Greer adjusts her position a bit, but it’s becoming harder and harder to move. “What’s it about anyway?”
“A small group of people trapped at a roadside motel in the middle of a blizzard being terrorized by a demonic killer.”
Greer smiles through the pain and cold. “Sounds scary.”
“It is.”
“How’s it end?”
“I don’t know. I never got a chance to finish it.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have an end.”
“Everything has an end.”
A heavy gust of wind blows, and along with the endless parade of snowflakes...playing cards…an entire deck…flutter through the air and rain down from the dark sky all around them, littering the snow with hearts and spades, clubs and diamonds and the bloody ghosts of those who came before them.
It is then that Greer realizes she’s not joking. Wearily, she reaches for the knife on her belt then remembers it’s no longer there. “I don’t think we’re going to make it.”
“Then it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Maybe it’s best this way.”
“Maybe so.”
The cold is becoming painful, and her body is shutting down. Greer can feel it gradually turning off, like she’s fading away into oblivion, becoming one with the storm. She knows she shouldn’t close her eyes but can’t seem to prevent it from happening. Her mind blurs…slows…
Kit stuffs the crystal into the knapsack, holds it tight against her chest and gazes at the cards in the snow. “Up for some midnight solitaire?”
“Solitaire’s played alone.”
“I am alone.”
“A writer spinning tales. Like God.”
“You think God’s a writer?”
“I think God’s alone. Like all gods, He’s hopelessly, desperately alone. Even when He’s not.”
“Or even when
she’s
not.”
“Yes,” Greer agrees. “Even when
she’s
not.”
Kit leans her head back in the snow and thinks of her mother, how she will never see her again and how these kinds of things have always terrified her so. Yes, maybe it really is best this way. “But I don’t believe in God,” she says. “Remember?”
“Maybe that’s because you
are
God.”
With what little strength she has left, Kit begins to laugh.
But in the swirling howl of blizzard winds there is no one there to hear it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The son of teachers, Greg F. Gifune was educated in Boston and has lived in various places, including New York City and Peru. A trained writer, actor and broadcaster, he has appeared in various stage productions and has worked in radio and television as both an on-air talent and a producer. Earlier in his life he held a wide array of jobs, encompassing everything from journalism to promotions. He has written numerous novels, screenplays and two short story collections, and his work has been consistently praised by critics and readers alike, and has been translated into several languages and published all over the world. Greg and his wife Carol live in Massachusetts with a bevy of cats and their dogs Dozer and Bella. Discover more about Greg at his official web site: www.gregfgifune.com or visit him on FaceBook.
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