The sound of two fingers landing on the wooden table was soft, barely heard over the distant cheering. The card was drawn silently, slid across the table and placed face down. It was almost ironic that such a small action could have such a big impact on a person's life, and yet, as the card was revealed, fear boiled in Jack's stomach.

 

There wasn't a choice on what to do next. Jack wasn't stupid. Two fingers hit the table once more. A second card was drawn, slid silently across the table. Flipped over. Disappointment clawed in Jack stomach. Anxiety tied his organs into knots.

 

A quick glance at the dwelling pile of red chips revealed how dire this situation was. Jack swallowed, he was going to need a miracle to pull this off.

The game was set up once more, the final call for bets made. Reluctantly, Jack grabbed two ruby chips - thin, plastic things that really felt like cheaper rubbish but still, somehow held more value than Jack wanted to think about.

 

The chips were placed on the table, and a card was drawn. And so it started again. Two fingered tap. Another card. Fear rolling in his stomach. Another tap. A second card. This time elation replaced fear. There was a chance now, a small chance, but a chance none the less. This time, instead of a tap, Jack waved his hand, denying a third card. The dealer moved on.

 

In the interim, Jack had a quick glance around the room. The bright, flashing lights drew his attention, as was their design. He didn't like to look at the machines for too long, the desperation surrounding that area of the room was thick. It scared him a little, the blank expressions on most faces as they mindlessly tapped buttons, hoping that their luck was finally turning around. It was a bit hypocritical for him to think, considering he was not much better, but there was some skill in blackjack, so at least he was not just making a hopeless gamble.

 

Another call for bets. Jack placed two chips on the table, then thought for a moment, before adding another two. The cards were dealt, and Jack held his breath while waiting to see what he would get. When two pictures were revealed, he let out a sigh of relief.

 

A quick wave of a hand allowed the dealer to move on, and once again Jack's gaze turned to the greater room. This time his attention was caught by a cheer from the corner of the room. The roulette tables were full, they always were. Jack had never understood that game, it was all luck, same as the slots, but by giving people the ability to choose a number, everyone seemed to think otherwise. It was probably human nature, believing you had the ability to change fate through will and luck alone.

 

This time, it looked like someone had guessed correctly. It was a woman, older than most in the room. She wore an old dress, nothing fancy, the kind his grandmother would wear to church. And for that reason, and that reason alone, Jack felt some kind of kinship to her. He was happy for her. It was a strange feeling, this overwhelming happiness for someone he didn't know.

 

Jack blinked, finally drawing his eyes away from the Roulette table. There wasn't time for this, he needed to concentrate. He had a plan. He needed to stick to the plan, there was no time to become overwhelmed by emotions.

 

Jack turned back to the table in time to accept the four chips the dealer slid over. Alright, he told himself, this was it, he needed to finally start playing properly. He left six chips on the table and waited for the cards to be drawn once more. And so it went. Two fingered tap, disappointment. More chips on the table, another tap. Excitement.

 

Time passed without his knowledge, as Jack played game after game. He won some, lost more. His pile of ruby chips fluctuated, but slowly decreased until Jack went to grab another one and his hand found nothing. He looked down, there were none left. Jack blinked, hoping that somehow when he opened his eyes once more something would have changed. But nothing did. There were still no chips in front of him.

 

"Sir?" The dealer asked, "Are you going to place a bet?"

 

Jack looked up at her, "I - there's nothing left." And for the first time since he had entered the building hours before, Jack felt truly helpless. He had honestly believed that his plan would work, that this time would be different and he could win his money back.

 

The dealer didn't reply with more than a small smile before moving to the others at the table. Jack wasn't sure what to do now, he couldn't sit here much longer. The room was busy, and he could already feel eyes on him, waiting to take his place.

 

With numb legs, Jack stood, slowly making this way through the crowd. Almost immediately, the chair he had been sitting in was filled by someone else. Someone hoping to try their luck and make some money.

 

As he walked towards the exit, Jack took a final glance around the room. The slot machines were still bright and flashing their lights, in front of them, blank faced people still sat, tapping away at buttons without a thought behind their eyes. There was a glum despair over that area, only broken by an occasional smile when someone won big, but even those moments were short as buttons continued to be pressed, and money continued to be lost.

 

The roulette table still held a rowdy crowd, and there were still cheers of joy and groans of disappointment with every drop of the ball. But that wasn't what caught Jack's eye. Off to the side of the table, stood the older woman who had won earlier that evening. The bright smile that had filled her face then, making her look years younger was gone, in its place was a tight frown as she clung to a small pile of blue chips. For the first time, Jack noticed the small holes in the fabric of her dress, he saw the pale colour in her face. And he knew, without having to be told, that this woman, like him, had everything riding of the outcome of the night.

 

He wanted to scream at her, to grab her and ensure she didn't make the same mistake he did. But he didn't. Instead, Jack kept walking, placing one foot in front of the other, and tore his gaze away. There was nothing here for him now. There was nothing for him anymore.

 

Between one step and the next, Jack walked out the room and into the cold, dark night. It hit him then, the true severity of the situation. He had nothing to his name now. There was nothing left. Only once that sunk in, did the tears start to fall. Jack had no choice but to keep walking into the night, tears dampening his face.

 

And despite telling himself that this would never happen again, that he was done, a few nights later, Jack would find himself back, a few coins in his pocket. He would sit in the same chair, see the same people, and hope that somehow, this time would be different and that for once he could finally win something. But nothing would ever change because the house always won.