ATLANTIC CITY
I brushed my hand off the
table and gave the man back
my cards. They had turned to
stone-cuttings in my hands and
were too heavy to play. The
wizened old guy said nothing,
but he sneered as I turned them
in. If there was a parable here
to be had, I'd hoped I'd have
seen it in play.
-
The silence was of a deafening
kind, and the guy kept staring
me down - I wanted to leave
but felt drilled into place. There
were others around me - two
women from Mars, and a man
with a fat-tipped cigar. The
bouncer at the doorway there
looked like Fizzle McGee, so
I hoped he had no designs
on me!
-
Funny how it is when you
feel out of place. I never play
cards (usually) and this felt
completely abstract - on its
face like something I should
never have done. Atlantic
City, here's my gun! Atlantic
City, you're no fun!
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