Mah jongg winds down quickly. We all look tired--a few of us are teachers getting back into the swing of things, almost all of us have kids doing the same thing. We play 3 or 4 hands. I win one. Since Gretchen wasn't there, we didn't have to play until she won at least one hand. Some nights she demands two.
It's my set and I offer to leave it, but really, there are only a few women who play there that night--me, Zelda, Cicely, Jackie. Jen knows how to play but nearly always declines in exchange for conversation. And there are two newcomers--Wendy, and Brenda's new tenant, whose name I've forgotten. I half-heartedly attempted to teach, but my will was weak. I wanted to play a bit and go home and sleep.
"I want to get home before that storm comes in," Jackie said as I made my excuses. So we cleaned up the set--you can play with 3 but you can't with just two. We said our goodbyes and headed across the street, down the street, next door, over there. Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark corners by our porches and next to our cars.
The door's unlocked and I tell Zelda goodnight. Jake's still upstairs on the computer, watching something on netflix. I join him. The storm comes in.
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