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The chip feels right in your hand – cool, round. It’s your last one, and you’re slightly reluctant to part with it.

Parting is such sweet sorrow, though – it’s all okay, because you know this chip is the lucky one. This is the chip that’s going to pay big time, and then you’ll have all the money in the world to do with as you wish.

Hand barely trembling, you extend the blue disk to the machine.

You almost drop it when you start seeing double; that one chip becomes a pair of eyes and they’re accusing. Hurt, but accusing.

“Shut up, kid,” you snap, and people stare because you’re ostensibly alone.

Refocusing, you turn back to your old friend and smile. It’s all okay.

This chip is the lucky one.

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