Mo Wen JOKER

[You are the fifty-fourth card, the eye outside the rules, and the last “human” in the game.]

“Remember, the Joker isn’t the trump card.”

The lame fortune-teller stopped me by the river and pressed a blank card into my hand.

“It’s a mistake, a loophole, the one flaw in this perfect game of cards

the only one that might be forgiven.”

Three days later, the fortune-teller’s shop burned to ashes.

Among the ashes, fifty-four shadows of cards appeared, each reflecting someone’s face.

I saw my teacher, my neighbor, my first love... and my own face, printed on a clown that was half laughing and half crying.

In blood-red letters on the back of the card:

“Chen Hui, you are the fifty-fourth card.”

“And the first.”

“Because every game needs a ‘human’ to deal the cards.”

I looked down. The first rule slowly appeared on the card in my palm:

“♠️ First Law of Spades: Never forget that you were once ‘human.’”

But beneath it was another line in tiny letters, the ink still wet, as though it had just been written:

“, But if you have already forgotten, this rule is void.”