The Last Hand

"Wash 'em." Somebody's uncle said it, and the bones went face down and spun.

Seven apiece. You stand them up in your palm so nobody reads your hand. The card table leans a little to the left. A plate is still warm on the radiator, and the music is loud enough that you have to lean in to talk trash.

You learned to count at this table before you learned it in school. Fives and tens. Who's holding the big six. When to play and when to knock. Nobody explained the rules twice, and nobody let you slide.

Then the slam. Bone hits wood hard enough to make the cups jump. "Domino." The whole room turns around.

Seven dominoes on a wood-grain tabletop, one stamped with our mark. 62 bricks that sit on your shelf the way that table sat in the living room: set up for one more hand.

Everybody wants the last hand. You remember who usually got it.

Key Details: 62 bricks | Size: 5.4"W x 3.8"D x 0.6"H | Includes: QR code with assembly guide and photo editorial