Photo Prompt, Short Story, Writing Challenge, Writing Prompts

The Long Con

Written for Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction
Challenge
using the image below as inspiration.

© Kaysha @ Unsplash

Vera had been losing all night, and doing it beautifully. That was the trick …. lose just enough, just charmingly enough, that nobody watching the roulette table thought twice about the disenchanted woman in the red dress who kept sliding chips onto the felt with a shrug.

Across the table was the dealer …. her brother, Dmitri …. though nobody in the casino knew that. They’d practiced this moment for six months in the back room of their aunt’s restaurant, using a cheap wheel and a hundred mismatched poker chips. He’d spin, she’d bet, and somewhere in the small movements of his hands …. a pause here, a flick of the wrist there …. he’d tell her where the ball was likely to land.

It wasn’t magic. It wasn’t even close to perfect. But it was enough of an edge to matter, if you were patient, and if you knew how to lose without anyone noticing you were also winning.

Tonight was supposed to be the last night. One final big bet, then they’d walk away for good, take the money, and never look back.

Vera pushed a tall stack of chips onto twenty-six. The pit boss glanced her way, the way he always did when someone bet big, but she just smiled at him, a little embarrassed, like she knew this was probably a bad move.

The ball spun. It bounced. It slowed.

And it landed on twenty-six.

For a second, brother and sister didn’t dare look at each other. Then Vera scooped up her winnings, thanked the dealer like a stranger, and walked toward the elevators, her heart pounding louder than the slot machines around her.

Behind her, Dmitri kept dealing, kept smiling at the players, kept pretending nothing mattered at all.

NAR©2026
#MFFFC

This is “Ace of Spades” by Motörhead

Everything on The Elephant’s Trunk was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thank you for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.



19 thoughts on “The Long Con”

  1. her heart pounding louder than the slot machines around her.–oh, gosh, yes! And you don’t breathe until you are on the other side of the door. Good one, Nancy.

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