Reading Time: 2 minutes

He was and remains the greatest gambler of all time.

It wasn’t the way he held his cards or could read the faces of his opponents.

There was a gilded edge to his talent, classic and beautiful, yet unexplainable.


One look and a person’s thoughts lay naked in front of him.

The world had suffered mass destruction, only a few remained to tell tales of long-gone days.

They say the gambler rose from the ashes of his home, wife and children dead, his cards still alive in his pocket. He dusted off his anguish and set forth to revive the wicked game.

Gambling had cost many their homes and relations. It was the beginning of downfall, a blind descent into dark caverns of greed and addiction.

But the gambler had built his reputation on the obsession of such men. He smelt them a mile away and lured them with false promises.

Money had lost its sheen.

A suffering world knew only the want of food, water, and shelter. A protective hand to lead them towards restoring damaged pride, recovering lost sanity.

Men wagered their souls in the hope of rebuilding better lives.

However, every game was already decided in the gambler’s mind, each move charted. He read the men’s minds, some had so little to offer. Always two moves ahead, games were completed like formalities.

The men crumbled, exhaling tattered breaths, unaware they had never stood a chance of winning.

The gambler swept away their remains, clearing his path. There were more to be tackled. Each win brought him closer to invincible glory. But carrying the weight of troubled souls wasn’t easy.

He heard the screams of the men he defeated, expecting their ghostly visions.

Till this day, the gambler wanders.

Not searching for a game, but eternal release.

I leave you with the song ‘The Great Gambler’ by Kenny Rogers. It’s a gem with a lot of wisdom.

His loneliness led him to the road less travelled. He was Almost A God before bitter reality hit him again.

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13 Comments on “The Greatest Gambler – Flash Fiction Story

  1. Beautiful. Reminded me of the Buddhist idea of hungry “ghosts.”

    • Very true, Shobana! Life is the greatest gamble. All gamblers finally have to pay their dues. Thank you. 🙂

  2. Interesting. The speaker definitely seems haunted despite being the one who always wins. It’s a unique take on playing [and living]. I liked the image of him emerging from his destroyed home with his family dead and cards in his pocket – all he could do afterwards was keep playing the game, and the game of life. After tragedies it can feel like we’re just living and being successful in life on auto-pilot without putting our soul into it. I also felt this message coming through.

    • I’m overjoyed with your analysis. 🙂 You’re very perceptive with an eye for detail. The mark of a true artist. I agree with all your observations. One story can have many meanings. It depends upon the writer’s ability to convey and the reader’s interpretation. Thanks so much. 🙂

  3. Pingback: On My Way To Disneyland - Flash Fiction Story | It Ain't Right Till I Write

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