My Creative Mojo

I’m seated at a card table along with three Indians in traditional Native American clothing and headdresses. We’re playing Indian poker. The dealer deals us each one card and we all slap them on our foreheads, face out. I look around to see what card the other players have, and we’re all stumped, looking around at each other wondering what to do. Instead of cards on our forehead, we’re all holding slices of cheese — the individually wrapped slices.

(What’s your interpretation? Post a comment.)