I get lost in the blinking lights of the casino. I float away in the haze of cigarette smoke and my thoughts ping like the slot machines.
Sweet alcohol slid through my veins.
I wiped the sweat from my brow. And a man looked at me.
You are faking it, he said.
What do you mean?
You dance like you have confidence. We both know you don’t have any.
I sat down.
I lit up a cigarette and stared at him.
I must have a tell. I am a terrible gambler.