He knew he should have never agreed to it. It would never happen he had told himself when he made that decision. That decision that he would come to regret.
All he had been doing was eating his lunch, well as much of a lunch as can be at 9am in the morning, and had fate not intervened, he would have uneventfully cleared his plate and left. Instead, he had to go ahead and imperil himself. He had to play.
The concept was simple really, it was a contest to determine who would clear all the plates. How many, would naturally depend on who was playing. It was a game of skill, psychology and speed.
Some people called it a game of luck, but they didn't know. Those people would never understand. The highly controversial and competitive game employed had the common name of scissors, paper , stone.
There had been 6 players at the start. And after a few drawn rounds, the first cut happened. Choosing carefully, he raised his palm up open. As did 3 others. The other three had only raised 2 of their fingers.
A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead as the three who had won wheeled away and laughed, it was alright he told himself. The odds were still stacked in his favour. Only one of the three had to face the punishment. He chose carefully again, but changed his mind at the last moment.
The key to victory had to come with predicting your opponents, and there was no way they could predict him if he couldn't even predict himself....
"Scissors, Paper, Stone!"
Silence for just a milisecond as two of them flashed paper while the other raised two fingers.
Then came the raucous laughter, applause and cheers as the two of them kept silent.
And so it had come to this. The game of many, now reduced to a duel. The atmosphere was tense and the crowd was silent at first. Impatient as they were however, they began to chant the name of the game.
"Walk of Shame, Walk of Shame, Walk of Shame"
His adversary was impossible to read, with a face so stone that it could crush rocks. It would be impossible for him to predict what was coming next. He was unpredictable as well.
In the end, the odds were at 1/3. It had come down to this.
The crowd never let up their chanting for one second. Not until they flashed their signs again.
It was a draw. And the crowd let out a cry of anticipation as the warriors turned back to each other. Removing his face from his hands, he once again contemplated his next move. Paper again, he thought, be true to yourself and you will reap great reward. He won't be expecting it.
"Scissors, Paper, Stone!"
He looked at his opponents hand, it was a rock. And as the crowd whooped and yelled he realized that he only had two fingers out.
His instincts had betrayed him, switching his intent at the last moment. Disaster disaster indeed. He gathered up the other 5 plates and began his slow lonely sojourn as he sighed. Shame, woe, dishonour.
He had lost this time, but he knew he would come back, stronger than before. And all would fall to him in the future.
He would be back
Labels: stories
