Daniel gently lifted the edge and took a peek at the markings on the face of the cards. Pocket Aces, he thought to himself. He knew this was the best possible starting hand in a game of Texas Hold ’em poker, but kept his face from giving any indication of his excitement. He repeated his usual routine, placing a stack of five $10 chips on top of his hole cards, before looking around at the rest of the table.

Annie was sitting immediately to his left, short hair pulled back behind her ears. She never wore sunglasses, but her eyes were always cold and fixed on an invisible point beyond the dealer, unless she was placing a bet. When she was serious about placing her bet, she would look intently down at her chips, her eyes shifting between the stacks to get a rough count. Daniel had noticed that if she was bluffing, this procedure would take slightly less time: her tell.
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Meghan and Jessica jumped up and down on the pair of twin beds, feathers flying everywhere on each impact. “Go Jessica,” yelled one of the on-lookers as Jessica swung her pillow wide and caught Meghan off balance, sending her to the mattress, giggling. “Yeah!” Jessica stood proudly, still bouncing slightly on the bed and causing her chest to heave against the bra with each bounce. “Who’s next?”

Maggie quickly volunteered, grabbing the pillow from Meghan’s hands and hopping up on the bed. She was wearing pink boy shorts and a tank top over an equally vibrant pink bra, visible through the thin cotton. “You’re so going down,” she said through a smile as she tossed the pillow over her shoulder, ready to strike.
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David’s heart beat at a constant 144 bpm as he leapt over a set of stairs, his hands acting as the fulcrum as he swung his legs up to the next landing. The movement flowed continuously, like water moving upstream. His feet landed firmly and his body seemed to roll through the move as he rotated his body around and looked up to find the railing of the stairway one floor above him.
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The fog was heavy in the woods this morning as Vixelyn, or Vix as her friends called her, walked slowly through the forest. The trees around her were leafless and eerie under the faint light that filtered through the fog. A slight snow was falling around her, but Vix was bundled in her favorite coat, it’s shiny exterior leaving the snowflakes to slide off again on their journey to the forest floor.

Vix came out here to clear her head, when the house got too noisy for her to even hear her own thoughts. It was the cold that drew her out; the chill that brought her body alive when a brisk breeze kissed her soft cheeks. She pulled her long hair over her shoulder and along the collar of the coat, insulating her pale skin. It wasn’t worry that brought her out here this morning, but simply for some alone time.

Her life in the city for the last few years had always been a rush, and a snow storm was always an inconvenience in that world. Out here though, snow was a wonder, a memory of a childhood spent laying on freshly fallen snow and tossing it in the air, only to see it fall down on top of her again.
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“It’s not a pig, it’s a boar,” Tuthic explained as the color began rising up his face. “You best keep your hands away from his snout or you’ll be 2 less fingers and likely a bloody mess before you can scream.” A devilish smile fell upon his face as he pulled the leash taught to reinforce the suggestion.

The other kids backed away slowly, pulling their pigs along with them. His older brother always told him that it was better to be feared than it was to be liked, at least in the world of competitive hog racing. Tuthic had fought with the committee that runs the annual fair since the first spring flowers, getting their approval for him to enter his boar into the contest. There was a lot of debate about whether it was fair to have another bread in the race, but after so many visits, letters, and general nagging, the committee had relinquished their position just to get some peace and quiet again. That is how Tuthic came to compete for the first time this year.
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It started small: a piece of candy from the open bin in the grocery store, a pen from the teacher’s desk, or a dirty magazine from his father’s secret stash. As he got older, the items that Daniel would steal increased in value and his schemes were more brazen. He enjoyed the challenge of thievery and considered it more of an art form rather than petty theft. Spending his teen years in a low-income neighborhood gave him ample opportunity to practice his craft.

Now, for his 21st birthday, Daniel had decided to get himself something much more valuable. He had spent the last few days riding his bike through the neighborhood at various times, always passing by the house at 584 Sycamore Way. He knew that every day, between 4:30pm and 5:15pm, the house was completely empty of humans thanks to afternoon Taekwon-Do classes which pulled Mom and the kids away for a while before Dad got home from the office.
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