THE LAST HAND

I narrowed my eyes stared at "it", I've seen “its” kind before but this one had that extra rugged look that scared the daylight out of me. Having gone this far there was no turning back, I knew one wrong move my stomach could explode. My mind had no problem creating images of such gory scenes before my very eyes, the lugubrious look on the faces of my friends hearing such sorry tale persistently tormented my mind. "It" had no eyes but that only made things worse, “it” was expressionless, but trust my mind (already overwhelmed with fear), I could imagine it staring at me and mocking me. That infuriated me, brought out the beast in me, one of us must go down, no draws, no giving up, and of course no running.
I looked around, I wished I invited someone to share in my glory, maybe a family member, a friend, even a semi-robot, maybe Lalasticlala. But there was no one to watch me triumph, neither was there any family or friend to wave a potential goodbye. That brought another thought, what if I fail, they'll find me lying with my stomach burst open, that definitely isn’t honour. But I once read, "better fail, than never try". That was the kick that started this engine, that was the last straw needed to break the back of the proverbial camel of my inhibition. I took a deep breadth, stretched forth my right hand, tilted it to the right and grabbed my antagonist, lifted it high and sent it down the egusi soup, took a handful of the semi-liquid composition and sent them all crashing down my stomach. I had conquered the last hand of eba, I did belch but that did not change my status as the victor over the last hand.
Written by the BrainzBox.

Copyright::: Ehm, okay, just reference the writer (The Brainzbox ) wherever you paste the short story.