Poker Face Unmasked

[quibiablig]

The neon lights of the casino ruined me. Alex here, ruined myself at the slot machines.
Night after night, the slot machines sang their siren song. The call of "place your bets" was my siren's call.
My wife, Maria, implored me to leave the poker tables, but I was too far gone.
On that ruinous night at the underground gambling den, I gambled it all: our life's work, our home - on a "sure thing" bet.
The slot machine displayed "LOSE" and I lost it all in an instant.
Returning to our place with empty pockets, I found only a note: "Goodbye. Your slot machine fixation has destroyed us."
Alone in an desolate house, I understood that hunting a lucky streak cost me all that was real.
Doctors diagnosed a depressive condition, exacerbated by gambling addiction.
Now, daily is a challenge not just with the memory of the poker table, but with the deep darkness in my mind. Will I ever escape this chasm shaped by the relentless pursuit of the next win?
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