The Ultimate Gamble

As she walked through the airport, she kept her eyes down. Everyone knew the stories of the airport people here. The ones who sat down for a hopeful quick win and never got up again. The ones who slowly lost their senses and melted into the allure of the brightly-flashing lights and the every-looming prospect of hitting a jackpot.

Her eyes on the ground, she started noticing something strange on the floor. It sparkled like glitter, and slowly swirled like snow in a snow globe settling after a mild shake. It didn’t stick to everything in sight like normal glitter, it kept floating and moving like it was caught on the lightest of breezes. It was mesmerizing. She wanted to contain it. To keep some. Wanted it to stay so she could continue to watch it. But it was like trying to hold water in her hands, it kept dancing just out of reach. She kept with it, unwilling to avert her eyes to the miserable reality around her.

As is the way of these things, it drew her little by little past her normal boundaries into the territory she swore she’d never enter. When it seemed she was becoming aware, it would lead her back to safety before drawing her next in even further than before. It is in this way that boundaries are often surpassed. Slowly, gradually, without the boundary-setter being astride of its occurrence. Before she realized what had happened, she found herself precisely where she did not want to be. And it was so much worse than even she had imagined.

As someone who strived to live as consciously a possible, the zombie-like figures in front of her were terrifying. Here were those who had given up all attempts at staying conscious, staying tuned-in, and being willing to live in the present. Their vacant, glassy stares fixed on the screens, their hands mechanically and routinely push buttons, pull levers, and feed their souls into the hungry machines.

When she glanced down, she saw that the glitter had stopped moving away from her and was slowly swirling around her feet. Now was her chance. She could simply walk away. As she watched, a few small specks drifted lazily towards the open chair, beckoning from the end of the row. She was frozen in place. The chair seemed to be in a soft spotlight as it turned towards her. Inviting her to sit and never leave again. Never have to worry about paying rent again. Never have to check the price on every item at the grocery store, never have to wonder after a few dates if this time would be different. It would all go away. It would all fade into the background and be swallowed by the promise of more. The promise of easy money. The promise of a never ending source of entertainment. The promise of surrendering to the addictive pull of the lever leading to a lifetime of occupation.

“Babe! I got us Cinnabons. What are you doing? Sorry it took so long, checking my bag took longer than expected and then I missed you going through security.”

Her man’s voice and the smell of hot cinnamon and sugar broke her revery. With just a momentary lingering glance at the chair, she turned away and met his eyes. He looked confused and then concerned while she stared blankly at him for a moment. Then the trance fully dissipated and she smiled and held out her hand for her cinnamon roll.

“Let’s find a seat near our gate. I want to get out of here as soon as we can”.

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