Queen of Hearts
“The king is dead,” I blurted, staring straight ahead. The words leapt out of my mouth before I could see them, let alone catch them. It was three minutes past midnight. With a jeweled paper crown atop my head and sparkly Cinderella shoes on my feet, I sat alone at a table a few yards from the dance floor when the tall figure in a white cowboy hat approached slowly and asked, “Where’s the king?” I first came to this dance as a newlywed, but on this night my now former husband instead sent a small wave and slight smile
