horseshoe

Why do these stories end up in a casino? You may wonder. Well, Gambling is the oldest past time in the world, From Macau to Bangkok and Brazil to the USA. The joy of betting, raising and the feel of the felt and the cards is addictive. Dostoevsky wrote a short story on it once, mostly about roulette in Russia. I don’t gamble anymore, just smoke my cigarettes and drink my Americano. And that’s where Wilbur comes to fruition. She is my bankroll. The more I watch television the more the flow gets in my mind. How television works, how the mind works, there's action and then there’s downtime. Speed plus information. It’s how the human mind encounters day to day reality.  Hell, I’m only at 6000 words. Let’s get back to the narrative.

Why am I here again?

I saved your life remember. So technically you work for me now. I almost choked on my croissant. Now why would I have to ensure you my servitude, technically I don’t owe you anything, you saved my life that you have already stolen from me. Why should I even trust you? I don’t even know your M.O.

But I need you, don’t you understand. Each of us are crucial for the greater plan. The electric shuffle. The Iconic Prince.  Two perceptive of mind. How could I be so compulsive. Dragged into some spy authority. There is no way out of here except accidents. That’s what they call them here. “Accidents” and it happens more than you think. Ladrios didn’t have a chance, Wilbur was sure of it and she wanted to prove her “no bullshit” empire by eliminating him. Show to the rest of us that we have balls enough to look death in the face and laugh. I saw a picture once of a man laughing. I thought the wrinkles of his face made art no matter what. That face was Jackson Pollock’s and I’ll never forget it.