Putting all her chips on lucky thirteen.
Roulette rewarded the three to five people who carried luck in their back pocket.
It made one wonder if they were a part of that club.
Maybe it was too much to count on since her skirt didn’t even have a front pocket, much less two.
Eventually, the ball landed on eleven, ending her night. Time to hit the buffet and eat some of that beef.
Living day to day, depending on his luck for sustenance
Orbiting his need for money and his need to be creative
The two pulling in opposite directions, their tidal forces ripping him apart
Today was a day where art and hunger went hand in hand as he painted
Every ounce of his imagination was placed on the canvas stroke by stroke
Revealing a mixture of magic and his soul, bound in sweat and paint
Yet it didn’t sell, leaving him destitute and feeling like he lost at life
Giving a toss of the dice, he closed his eyes
And projected the vision he needed as he heard them hit the table
Maybe if he truly believe, his luck would decide to work
But belief and seven bucks would buy him a venti latte at Starbucks
Looking at the pips he shook his head dejectedly. He’d have to go to work tomorrow
Except it wasn’t time to leave yet. He pulled out the last of his bankroll
Putting together yet another try was one of the most satisfying things he did
Reaching down he snapped in the last fitting and took a breath, ready to see if it worked
Of course, building all these iterations was also one of the worst things he could do
They reminded him of the numerous failures he didn’t plan for, that he was a bad engineer
Only he knew there was almost zero chance that the first one would work out of the box
That was the stuff of myths, legends, and dumb luck
Yearning to know if this was the one, he flipped the on switch
Prepared for sparks to fly and flames to claim one more attempt
Except this time it didn’t burn. It still didn’t work, but that was still progress?
Focusing on the end game
Actively working to achieve one’s goals
That work mitigating the necessity of luck
Embracing you are responsible for your own…
Converting luck into action
He tossed the spinning dice from his hand
And as they flew through the air, probabilities spun with them
Not collapsing the distribution curve until done with their dance
Cascading all possibilities into a single outcome
Everything random transforms into fate
Been shaking the pair in my hand and wondering
Obviously the way they land is random
Now that wasn’t an appealing thought
Every ounce of him wanted to believe in luck, that now was his time
So when they came up snake eyes, he knew he had been right
Going to try their luck
As they roll the dice one last time
Maybe this time they will win
Even though as they released the tumbling cubes
Something twisted in the universe
Sometimes it’s those flukes of luck that change the world
Everyone thinks it is greatness, but so much is being in the right place at the right time
Realizing that you are in that moment for a reason
Engaging in what needs to be done to create your new normal
Now sometimes it is pure happenstance
Dumb luck if you will
It can be such a blessing
Perhaps it was more than that, though
It was a break waiting for you to come along to happen
That you were, for that moment in time, the chosen one
You just need to accept the honor
Down to my last chance, I offer a prayer to the lukewarm plastic cubes
I then release them to bound across the table, watching them unleash their chaos
Cartwheeling and spinning among all the possibilities and futures
Eventually coming to rest as tombstones on my luck’s grave
Image: i.ytimg.com/vi/hr8iI576BY8/hqdefault.jpg
Stories and photos from Scotland
A paper-cut survivor
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
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Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
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