Bianca bianca (1) | Page 89

4
Not wanting to go back home except for sleeping, as every corner in the house
kept reminding me of her.. The classical furniture that she chose herself.. The
wallpaper that she insisted on buying.. Briefly, I saw her in every statue and
every chair and every corner of the house, and now, this only brought me grief..
The only thing that I wanted now was to watch the ball as it rolled, stopped,
hopefully making me win.. Things were good at the start and I couldn't deny it,
especially that I was winning at the beginning, which encouraged me on diving
more and more, but soon things started to exacerbate.. Debts kept piling up,
and no matter how many times I played trying to make up for my loss, I ended
up losing more.. I remembered that night in the casino I used to go to every
several days.. I remembered the ball running and running.. Remembered the
smoke in the air and the sweaty faces watching the ball in its hectic round..
The faint light and the jazz music coming from everywhere.. Greedy eyes
following the ball eagerly, before the critical moment came and the ball stopped
at number (2), which was the last number I wanted to see it stop at.. Carrying
my glass of wine, I stood up, all staggered, walking away, while the eyes were
now on me, some in pity and some in gloat..
Walking towards the large balcony, to take a look at the moon and the
surrounding clouds..
- New loss.. Eh..?
The voice of "Khalid", the café's old owner startled me, he was standing there
with his wily voice and gaze and inside as if the devil himself was standing next
to me..
He was putting his hand on my shoulder in an exacerbating familiarity..
- The usual..