Flavor

The flavor of beer stung the back of Jacob Gaulin's throat. It was warm from sitting untouched at his side for the duration of the card game. Now, as the dealer reshuffled the deck for the next hand, he had a moment. In two deep gulps, the glass mug was emptied. Once the amber liquid was empty, Jacob missed it. The presence of an empty glass at his side as the cards slid across his table bothered him. As he covered the flat rectangles with his hand, Jacob looked down at the bottom of his glass. There was nothing left but white froth. And now, it would sit next to him for the next several hours.

"Your move."