Fifty Two Cards

I started my life with a full deck

My life started as a neat fist of Bicycles, the deck so shiny, slippery, each card eager to be played.

I joined the game. Experiences came and went. Will I draw an ace today? Perhaps I’ve got a lucky Jack? Maybe I’ll even earn a royal flush, but then again, perhaps a hand of nothing. Time will tell whether I bet, bluff, fold or hold.

But I continued to play hard. I’m raking in the coins, until I notice that when I deal now, my deck is missing something. What happened to the jokers, and my favorite wild card?

My cards have gotten thinner, and I can’t play as easily anymore. The bikes sit there looking up at me. The cards appear complete but they aren’t.

I still want to deal. I want to stay in the game, but now the others don’t want to play with me. They say I have a light deck. I shuffle my cards over and over to prove them wrong, hoping the lost cards might appear again, but they’re gone. They went missing years ago.

Even a game of solitaire can’t be completed anymore.