I’m not a gambler, never have been, knowing the house always had the odds and every play was a sucker’s bet for sure. I might kill an hour on a business trip to Las Vegas going through four dollars at the nickel slots, one play for each original nickel, winnings set aside for rolling.
Twenty-one years ago today I hit the grand jackpot standing nervously on the steps of an Indian restaurant, and my good luck has never changed so it’s fitting that today I draw a perfect 21 even if there is no casino to make a payoff on my winning.
You said it was a lucky charm, but I know my cereals and it clearly wasn’t that, nor was it a faked foot of some leporidae sylvilagus, even you would never be that cruel, you are a vegan after all, even your shoes are some unholy man-made material.
And I don’t believe in luck, I’ve never had it, good or bad although I do admit I look forward to Friday the Thirteenths for things always seem to go well when they occur for some reason.
It would be an anathema to him if he were a Pope or held deeply felt opinions about anything, but he does not. He denies being vacillating, rather, he says, he is just open to a multitude of views, never mind, she replies, that he can never make any important decision except by mere chance or luck. He says he prefers life this way, for he is disinclined to alienate anyone. She says his unwillingness to take and hold a position has alienated her, and she points out that he has no friends and few who would call him a true acquaintance. He debates arguing with her, but he knows she is possibly right and arguing would do nothing, and so she walks away and he can only imagine what might have been.
He was no longer sure quite where he found it, or whether it was talisman or just an amulet, but he didn’t believe the distinction really mattered at all. He carried it with him everywhere he went, was sure to put it ins his pocket each day. Many said it did nothing for him, brought him no better luck, no change in his circumstances, but he was quick to point out how much worse things might have been had he never found it.
Each night I stare up at the sky, scanning for the one star that is there solely to answer whatever entreaties I choose to make. It is said that we each have a lucky star, but perhaps, given the ever-expanding population of the world, mine is just too dim to see from the city in which I live, or perhaps, I simply haven’t found it, and addressing someone else’s star brings you nothing, not even thanks from the lucky soul who won the big lottery last week all at my urging, I mean how could I know it was their star I addressed with my request, it isn’t like they wear name tags after all. Still, I don’t give up trying, though I often swear that Orion and Cassiopeia spend a portion of every evening together just laughing their celestial asses off at me.
The space between want and need is at once a vast gulf and the width of the hair, much the same as that separating luck and greed. It is only in the eyes mind that the gap is insurmountable and we give up hope that those who live in the land of wants will ever look across the border of tears and truly see those who are doomed to toil endlessly in the land of need.