the smell of cigars filled the air like water fills the sea. chips clicked in peoples hands and slid across the plastic finish on the fold out table. there was a chorus of moans and huffs from the mouths painted with alcohol.there owners were frustrated and losing men. cards hit the table with a flick not to far from the flick of pages in a college student's textbook. chair slide across the floor with a screech like an owls."Well boys, looks like you owe me some money! I'm sorry for your loses but daddy's gotta bring home the bacon!" shouted a cocky man. his face held the expression not to far from one of a con man with a new victim.he reeked of smug satisfaction, like the putrid sent of a deer on the side of a highway. it was easy to tell, some were not amused. a gun was shot. there was a thunk." looks like there are no winners tonight!" and as the gun mans cackling faded all you could here was the drip, drip, drip of the a winners blood.

the scuff of his shoes was the only sound on the lonely street. the glitter on the pavement was one many had seen before him. the lights of the city that had inspired so many sparkled like Christmas lights in a suburban town. as he heard the taxi horns and irate divers that so many called a lullaby he couldn't help but think...
" how many have taken this walk before? that's a stupid question. tons probably. you hear about it all the time on the news. i mean think about it, new york is new york! one more spool of yellow tape. that's nothing. besides people will do anything for a good story. hey I'm just making there jobs more easy... oh my good I'm sick how could i turn this situation in to a positive! i gotta find her!"
his breathing was fast and powered only by adrenalin. the money was in his pocket and the gun still in his hand. of all the thoughts running through his head all he really cared about was what her thoughts would be and if she would forgive him...again. he had no clue how he got there but before he knew it he was pulling open her door just hoping she was still alone.
" well if it ain't the gun man himself!" her sickly sweet southern accent was like a pot of honey in a room of pickle juice. it was out of place in the city, but it just made her even more irresistible. he wanted her just like every other man in the state, and boy did she know it. it had been that way sence they were kids, he made a mess she fixed it. she kept him out of trouble he kept her sane and safe. she had been there through everything with him, the day they started school, the day when he got his nick name, and the car crash. the car crash was thirteen years ago. for thirteen year she stood by him, with out his parents he was a mess, but with out her he would be nothing.