Reservoir Poker

The outside of the place was choked in the scent of stale urine – I was relieved to be smothered in cheap cigar smoke as the door clicked shut behind me.

At the end of a long hall I brushed a bead curtain aside, slid a tentative foot into the room.

Suddenly everyone was sitting at attention.

“We don’t like your kind here.” The hairy one growled, his eyes glittering.

“Uh,” I responded, my tongue having stalled.

“Hey – I said it was time to take a walk.” He leaned forward, his pipe shaking between his teeth.

I quickly considered trying to make friends, but a look around the room made it clear no one wanted to shake.

“I’ll let myself out.”

Dogs Playing Poker