Blackjack: Busted Dreams

[Annerfeib]

The gambling halls consumed me. My name is Alex, and I lost everything at the poker tables.
Every night, the slot machines sang their siren song. The call of "place your bets" was my siren's call.
My wife, Maria, begged me to abandon the roulette wheel, but the lure of the jackpot was too strong.
On that tragic night at the underground gambling den, I gambled everything: our savings, our house - on one spin of the wheel.
The dice rolled snake eyes and chance betrayed me.
Returning to our place with not a penny to my name, I found only a note: "Goodbye. Your roulette wheel madness has torn us apart."
Sitting in an desolate space, I grasped that pursuing the perfect bet lost me what was truly valuable.
Doctors diagnosed major depressive disorder, compounded by my withdrawal from betting.
Now, constantly is a fight not just with the phantom sounds of slot machines, but with the all-consuming melancholy that haunts me. Do I have the strength to rise above this void dug by years of gambling?
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[subbels]

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