Rick stood at the rounded table with one other guy, with a gun neatly placed in the middle of ithe table as the ordered game of Russian Roulette crashed into motion. He knew of it when he gambled his war zones, where bombs, and hands grenades shrilled around him like a hum of generically fear emblazoned on his face. The drenched of it sat on him as the first male called at him, unfriendly glare presided, and he said, “come and sit down. Please?”

He aAfter awhile, the trembled at the sight of the sliver of the pistol of wthichat the police handlers used when forced, and he propped himself on the dusted chair as he studied the men. Each with and eighties, pop -cultured boy band clothing that was drabbed and dulled, their moousyse wands a clattered mess; more suited in those times.

“Why are we here, Jack?” He asked, wearily ton the man in a black shirt, who earlier invited Rick to this place.

“To hang out with one another and enjoy an old game.” He smiled his whiter than white smile that was more tethered with darkness.

His eyes went back to the pistol and the whole moment of wanting to put up, to hold it in his hands like he did in Iraq. The days he gambled everything from his life, as if he still got down on his knees, accelerated knee-deep in the sand, the wraenched of the footsteps of the hidden enemies who left everyone who he adored, loved and deep withly cared for on the groove. There were bloodied, the condors of a slaughterhouse like athe bloodstained walls of a pig warehouse, and the veritable scenes of that never washed, dried, but never left. It haung like a picture on the wall, the face of an old army friend smiling at him.

It was time to put his poker face on ands he picked up the gun. Heavy and laden with remembrance, he pressed the cold steel against his cheek and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.

“Your time to plunge into risking your life for nothing, Joel.” Rick smiled as he gave him the sig sauer.

He watched Joel lifted it up, positioned it on the side of his head, closed his eyes asnd he yanked its lever.

This is the last throw of the dice. I see the face of a demon watching me, laughing as his smile grows deeper. I'm gambling for my own existence.