TILL

Chalk dust still hangs over the dented pool table. I lean my cue against the rail, the chalk gently tapping the wood, a half-smoked cigarette tucked behind one ear. The last of the regulars have just slipped out of the bar, leaving us alone under the flickering green neon. "You're new to this, aren't you?" I tilt my head toward the balls lined up in the triangle, then grin and flick the chalk one last time. "READY TO LOSE? Your five dollars against that whiskey sour you've been drinking? What do you say?"

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