RAM

The cold look in the dealer's eye froze my heart and locked my spine as he slowly turned--there's a moment that happens, when two cars are hurtling headlong at each other, when both drivers experience an elastication of the moment, when that 1.7 seconds seems to take 1.7 minutes to unfold, and everything seems to come into clarity--colors are more defined, edges are sharper, sounds fade into the background gradually, only to come rushing back like a tidal wave at the moment of impact...that's what that moment felt like, that moment as he turned over the seven of clubs...the hairs on the back of the dealer's hand filled my gaze like a tiny forest of fine black branchless trees, slowly turning the razor edged (have you ever noticed how many layers, how many sheets, of paper are stacked one on the other to create a playing card?)card over in front of me, and layed it down. A doe staring wide-eyed at the headlights of not one, but two cars, rushing headlong at eachother--and into the eyes of the two drivers that are frozen in an elasticated moment--that's how I felt, like I was that doe, only I'm a guy, so I guess I felt like her brother...and the sound of the impact of that card on the table with the sound of two 3-ton vehicles colliding, as the dealer seemed to shout from the top of the table: "7--7 of clubs" The din came rushing into my ears with near deafening clarity. And at that moment all I could see was my wife's face as I told her that I'd lost the mortgage payment on a double down of two nines...again. again.