Playing Cards at the Senior's Hall Sometimes I can't forgive God's utter lack of grace. If I ask anything it's to be given time to swallow, a chance to meld, not to die with my mouth full of egg salad sandwich, the way Tina did last Thursday; all those cards held tight to her chest turned face up on the floor. Don't think the bunch of us didn't look-- playing into God, and Tina's perfect hand.