My hand’s all numbers so what the heck?
I drew a card from atop the deck,
My palms were wet and my cheeks a-fire
A chip and a chair with stakes ne’er higher.
My fortunes rose and I watched ‘em fall,
As the ‘Old Man with the Axe’ takes all.
Photo by Rumalowa
That’s how long it takes us to realize the Sun has gone dark.
I’ll never forget the first time I sat behind the yoke of dad’s old hovercar by myself, newly minted holo-license carefully filed in my e-wallet.
Me and Little Tim race our horses hard trying to catch up to the train.
The box says forty-two pieces. I’ve counted three times
