Three and five. Hansy scooped the dice just as Dee came in. Evens, he thought. So I’m leaving. Evens I go, odds I stay. He turned the ivory-cold cubes around his palm. Ran his thumb along the rounded edges.
‘Careful with those things.’ Dee laughed.
‘No worries, Love. just mucking around.’ That’s what he’d said when he lost the house. He still didn’t know how she’d had the courage to stay. He was just mucking around. He wouldn’t be going anywhere in a hurry.
Best out of three he thought, sending the dice tumbling across the coffee table.
(this is an edited version of the story Against the odds, published on this day, 2010. See about small stories about love)