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A recorded reading of “House Rules”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
We held our breath as before thunder, cards down, faces straight as napkins, elbows tucked, eyes pretending to drift. Between dessert and the last tall story, the spoons gleamed like moon slivers by the plate— no one looking, everyone looking. A sleeve twitched, a chair scraped, metal rang the table like a tiny bell, and suddenly we were noise and grab and laughter, mock outrage confettiing the cloth. You were the spark in the middle, Cath— called the bluff, fanned the joy, your grin lit the room and we arrived at together. Fifty finds you there again— setting the table, counting hearts not score, stacking good minutes like plates still warm, ready for one more round. May this chapter brim with the same bright racket— health in the hands that reach, laughter in the quick scramble, love close enough to touch.
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