6 min read
Last Words
Sarah gambled. She played video poker and the ponies at the track. She knew the odds of blackjack if she split a pair of face cards. She’d played the office football pool–until she was fired for taking one too many three-hour lunches at the casino. She gambled when she had money and, on credit, when she was broke–before she’d maxed out her credit cards and the debt collectors started dogging her steps. She gambled when she was happy and she gambled when she was miserable–which was increasingly often. Now, standing under the buzzing fluorescent lights of the convenience store, rainwater dripping from her hair onto the worn linoleum floor, Sarah clutched three crumpled dollars. It was everything she had left.…