The Game
Just trust me, he says. When have I ever been wrong?
And he’s right of course. He’s always been right. But he doesn’t understand this game. He doesn’t understand the rules and he doesn’t understand the consequences. I’ve lost this game once before and it wasn’t a game that I could just dust my hands off after and walk away from. It was a major loss and it left me damaged. And now here I am again. About to lose.
He looks so calm, cool and in control, but I don’t think he’s ever played this game before. He is pretending to be knowledgeable in it though saying he knows a guy who taught me how to play.
I don’t want to play the game at all, I’ve played this game too many times before, I already know I cannot afford the stakes. But now it is too late. I’m already seated at the table and the dice are about to tossed. I look at my wager and try to swallow the lump in my throat as I fight back the tears.
Everything I hold dear to me is on that table and I close my eyes and say a prayer as the dice roll in front of me.
Write On 
This is very dark. May you always play with loaded dice (and win).
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