Honza Returns to the Gaming Floor

    Honza couldn't breathe.  He didn't fully realize it yet, but Tom had given him something.  The money was infected with a disease; an addiction.  The adrenaline that pumped through his heart when that number hit was more potent than heroin.  It was unreal.  And just like with heroin, as soon as that wave of pleasure started to wear off, his body was screaming for more.  His brain told him to bolt through the side exit and never look back, but his legs wouldn't move.  His guts turned to jelly begging for another taste. 

   The steps back towards the casino floor were easy.  The steps towards the exit; impossible.  Honza soon realized that he could function normally only if he was concentrating on another hit, another win.  Any other thoughts made him sick to his stomach.  He thought to himself, "so this is what it's like to be one of them." 
    Back at the wheel, Tom was nowhere to be found.  Maybe he had gotten spooked.  Maybe he had been caught cheating somewhere else, but Honza never saw him again.  The two hours until his next break felt like twenty.  Honza's skin was crawling by the time he got a light tap on his shoulder for relief.  He cashed in a few small tips, and walked out.  He just couldn't tolerate the tedium of spinning that wheel without the possibility of winning big again. 

    Without Tom though, he knew he could never do it.  The house odds were cruelly grinding.  If he tried to gamble straight, they would methodically bleed him dry.  He knew that.  Tom had known that.  But he had to do something.  He had to get that feeling back.

The End

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