Four aces have been completed.
This feels like the greatest day of my life.
I'm alive, I think. I won. I feel freedom for the first time in months, and an air of contentedness wanders next to me all the way home. It even remains as I walk through the front door, kiss the Doorman, and make us some coffee in the kitchen.
We're halfway through it when another feeling finds its way to my stomach, winds up, and spills.
I don't know why I feel it, but any contentment vanishes instantly as the Doorman looks up at me. We hear a latch open and shut from outside and a person rush off.
I walk slowly out the door, down the porch steps, and onto the front yard.
My letter box stands there. Slightly crooked. It looks guilty.
My heart shakes.
I walk on and shudder as I open the letter box.
Oh no, I think. No, no. No!
My hands reach in and my fingers take hold of one last envelope. My name's on it, and inside I can already see it.
There's one last card.
One last address.
I close my eyes and fall to my knees on my front lawn.
My thoughts stammer.
One last card.
Without thinking, I gradually open the envelope, and when my eyes find the address, all thoughts are cut down and left there to die.
It reads:
26 Shipping Street
The address is my address.
The last message is for me.
part five: The Joker
The street is empty and silent.
The Joker laughs at me.
Everything's quiet but for the silent laughter of the clown in my hands. He roars.
The grass is covered with sweat, and I stand alone with the wild card between my fingers. I've been watched all along, but never have I felt as vulnerable or scrutinized as right now.
Inside. I panic. What's waiting inside?
"Get in there," I say, and I walk across the sweat-soaked grass. Of course, I don't want to go inside, but what other choice do I have? If someone's in there, there's nothing I can do about it. My feet print the cement porch with wetness.
I walk through to the kitchen.
"Anyone there?" I call out.