At the beginning, she had taken the black 8-ball and placed it on the counter.
“What game is this?”
“Ours.”
“Huh?”
“Whoever bags all their balls first wins. We don’t need the uncertainty of the last one.”
I shrugged and picked my cue-stick. The game was a bet; it would end up with sex. Or not.
She was a pro. By the time her last green positioned itself, in such a way that the slightest nudge from any side would hole it, I was sweating. I took my final one shot and held my breath as I watched my blue number 2 roll over slowly, almost leisurely, stopping at the edge. My girlfriend’s face fell.
I was screwed.
‘Pictory’ – A picture and a story speaking of and from each other.
Photography – Kimani Wandaka
Story – Ngartia
In Coherence. 