“I sent my Soul through the Invisible,
Some letter of that After-life to spell:
And by and by my Soul return'd to me,
And answer'd: I Myself am Heav'n and Hell.”
― Omar Khayyám
It had been a clean 12 degrees Celsius when Theodore first roamed that alien city, measuring the temperature against his brow; when, following some slender impulse, like a fish on a silver line, he had met the man in the whirlpool-glasses; and guided by foreign constellations, swept clean as white teeth in black gums, had been ushered into his first game of poker.
“Ah, it would seem the nuances of this game still somewhat elude me. But… I suppose one deck would hardly last two friendly rounds, were one to truly ‘fold’ one’s hand upon forfeit… Forgive me for creasing the Queen of Hearts.”
Clean white gloves, pressing smooth the queen’s wrinkled brow. Theodore, as conspicuous as a figment of blue polished glass in a gravel pit, fanned his cards symmetrically and appointed them an attentive gaze, his erect shoulders skyscrapered between the secretive slouches of seasoned players (each of whom he had seated like a maitre d’, soberly drawing back their chairs). Vaguely, he was aware that though he handled his cards like a stage magician, he played with all the clumsy ineptitude of a rank amateur -- That is, he was losing rather miserably. But in the acquisition of such an experience, was there any such thing as loss? To become a participant was, to the eternal observer, an opportunity more precious than the weight of a coin purse.
“I suppose… perhaps one more hand. I believe I’m making progress.”
If gambling was amongst the lesser vices, its participants were among the greater seducers. Their acquisitive encouragement was irresistible, their cajoling humor, infectious. And in his absorption, Theodore’s mask had cracked. His chalk-white cheeks betrayed an eager flush, his yellow eyes, a mirthful, coin-bright glint. The hint of childish rapture. Innocence. Excitement. A moth dancing by candlelight.
Glee shining through the veneer of his poise, he turned to the bespectacled man with a smile. “And this ‘Auntie Up’ you keep mentioning ... Is she the proprietress here?”
