Eight Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks #17

I am presenting a new character and a new story. A dieselpunk adventure set in 1938. The character’s name is Rand Hart. He’s a professional gambler who spends most of his time on board the great zeppelins, crossing the North and South Atlantic, on the great Pan Am clipper seaplanes, flying from North to South America, and in Europe. His games are poker, Chemin de fer Baccarat, and backgammon.

Today’s snippet takes up where last Sunday’s left off where we left Rand Hart going through the probability tables in his head.

He looked at the German, in his black suit, his blond crewcut, gold ring on his finger, and the stack of chips in front of him. Hart looked at his own chips.

“I think it’s time, Mr von Osler, we see who’s bluffing.” Hart pushed all of his chip into the pile in the middle of the table. “That’s thirty-five thousand dollars. And I call.”

The German counted his chips. “It seems, Herr Hart, I’m short two thousand. Perhaps I might write a check?”

To be continued!

If you write or read Dieselpunk, join in the fun: 8 Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks.

Share This!
Facebooktwitterpinterest

8 Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks #16

Today we meet a new character: Rand Hart. He is the main character in a new story I’m writing. My intention for the Eight Sentence Sunday is to simply put out for review and comment successive 8 sentence snippets of the first chapter of the story.

The time is Friday, 6 May 1938. Hart is aboard the Hindenburg, playing poker. He is a professional gambler. For those who know a bit about the Hindenburg, you will have already caught the initial alternative history element: the Hindenburg was destroyed by fire on 6 May 1937.

Without further adieu, here is Rand Hart:

Rand Hart couldn’t imagine what the German’s hand was. He was looking at four jacks. Certainly the possibility existed the fellow had something better, but that possibility was slim. Very slim.

The last round of betting saw the other American fold. Now only Helmut von Osler and he remained at the table. The chips in the center represented over twenty-three thousand dollars. Hart ran through the probability tables in his mind.

To be continued!

If you write or read Dieselpunk, join in the fun: 8 Sentence Sunday on Dieselpunks.

Share This!
Facebooktwitterpinterest