274

leaving las vegas.

there’s a version of you still sitting at the slot machine, racing a bandit, spinning the wheels in every possible combination. she’s at the tables, playing hand after hand, with the world’s most beautiful strangers to blow on the dice. alternating red and black, she keeps placing bets.

let her. it’s what she knows. she can stay there. but another version of you, she is the one who gets up to leave. she puts out her cigarette, splashes her face, and walks herself out. she wanders the great boulevard and eventually, she’s leaving las vegas.

she visits with nature and makes it home, back to her own house. back to regular life. it’s not exciting. no bright lights. no rush. no crowd. but she can see the sky again. she can have her sunrises and sunsets and the way the moon moves with the seasons.

there’s what she always wanted; she still wants it. but she can accept that it was not coming in a winning hand or lucky jackpot. it was going to happen a little closer to “chop wood and carry water.” this doesn’t really make sense and it’s not what she wanted. but it wasn’t going to find her in a gamble. life is not that kind of a game. she can’t know yet for sure. but she was sitting at that casino for long enough, either way.