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The Hand of Fate

“I’ll see your bet and raise you three souls,” the Devil said, as he leered wickedly at God.

Lifting the corners of His two hole cards, God glanced at them briefly, and then eyed the flop. He was sitting on the Ace of Diamonds and 3 of Hearts. Before Him were the 4 of Spades, and 2 and 7 of Clubs. It wasn’t much—a possible straight maybe. But He wasn’t one to drop out in the first rounds of a new hand. Not only that, they were at least on His home turf this time. Last time, they had played Down There. He felt more in His element, more sure of His play. “I’m in.”

His opponent raised a suspicious eyebrow. “You surprise me, G. There’s not much there. You got something up your sleeve?” the Devil said, chuckling.

“What do you think?”

“Right. I should know better. Not you.” The Devil burned a card and slowly flipped the turn card: the 6 of Spades. His eyes sparkled slightly.

God hesitated before betting again. It was never easy gambling with someone’s fate, never easy deciding whom to choose.

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