Miss Laura witnessed it all and let go of me immediately. A look of disappointment washed over her face; her lips formed a pout that made my heart bea... faster.“Oh, gawd. You’re not a preemie, are you?” she asked, annoyed.I stuttered for an answer, but was cut off.“Jesus, I thought you were banging that bartender slut, Kristie,” Miss Laura added and sat on her haunches. Her chest heaved as she breathed and shook her head. “When’s the last time you had this thing in her? A month ago?”I explained. It was just a game of chance, with the stakes being a commodity on which I placed little value.The commodity I valued most stridently was freedom. The kind of freedom that money tends to restrict. Money attracts attention, it attracts tax people, it attracts greedy hangers on. It requires responsibility, it must be carried if not put in a bank, and what large amounts of it buys you are things ... and my storage capacity was a large backpack. So this was just me playing with fate.I took $50,000. More

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