I sat at the end of the table, my brother, the idiot he is, sitting in his seat cards in his hands. He’d agreed to yet another game of cards, wanting to win his losses back, he’d stupidly bet our entire weeks pay, our, mine included. It was funny when he was a child, my father and mother would laugh at his ridiculous exclamations, ridiculous odds, now it was more saddening, it was sad because I am still included, even after all of his losses he includes me, says it’s for higher stakes, says he cares about me too.

Now he sat there as smug as always, I was almost certain he’d lose, as he always does, but for some reason it felt slightly different, as if something might change this time, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. He laughed as he dropped the cards on top of the pile, all I could hear was laughter and shock, everyone blocking my view as they congratulated him.

The other player was shocked, the woman against him looked devastated, I was in awe at the scene, truly shocked that he could ever succeed after so many losses. The only question was: what did he really bet on this time?