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The Gambler

The gambler, striding with ever-confident steps towards a man-made addiction created from self-recriminations.Heart and mind quickening in anticipation of the monetary kill that surely must be his for the taking ~ this time.This is his moment in time, for the ever elusive, quick and sought after riches ~ this is his occasion to be the victor.Placing his hand upon the machine and giving a quick pull, while a desperate prayer escapes his lips un-noticed to himself.“Please God; let this pull be the one”.Breath caught, heart rising in rapid pulse points~ failure ~ unmatched sour lemons dance before him in gleeful mockery.“I will try again”, he murmurs feeding not only the mocking device but his own misunderstood uncontrollable desire. Coins fed into an ever growing hungry monster ~again ~ visions of failure ~ taunting.“Just one more try”, beats into his head in an erratic tempo as this obsessive sequence repeated over and over again.Shock and realization of lost finances and control come crashing around his head ~ threatening sanity.A momentary thrill and promise of quick riches leave behind the acrid bitter taste and deep regret at the dawn’s enticing light.“What have I done” whispered with face buried into timeworn hands.“Never again” are empty promises ringing to himself and to those whom are held dear.Reflective accusations and promises to himself will continue to be broken as tomorrow is another day ~ surely to be his time.

Autumn at The Lake House

The leaves are just beginning to turn to the jewel tones of golden yellows and reds.The green that remains is a pale imitation of summer’s deeper vibrant color. You can feel the bite in the air at night, and the chill that lingers into the morning. Tiny tendrils of fog hover just over the tops of the wild grasses in the fields, heavy with dew. Though it’s warm during the day, the sunshine has a slant to it that is unmistakable fall. The sounds of the day lack the carefree noise of children as they are back to school, while you hear the geese honking to each other that it is nigh time to fly. The sun leaves its place in the sky earlier each day and is more reluctant to return each morning. The stars are crisper and brighter as night wanes longer and longer. The clouds holding the promise of snow, drift across the bright day and into the night, leading us into winter.

Avie Layne 2012