After three coffees passions started to rise. A brief recess was announced. I stared at the decorative bottles over the counter.
“I am not tired.” I said.
“Santa Madonna, the computer shows that its odds are rising steadily.”
“Are you losing money?”
“Not if you win. But will you win?”
“You play chess?”
“Piccolo. A little.”
“When you go fishing the odds are always against you, right? The fish doesn’t have to be caught. What drives you to go for it anyway?”
“An instinct, I guess”
“ It is the same here.”
I saw my wife through the smoke and offered her a piece of cake.
“Compliments of the establishment,” I said.
“They told me you are here,” she said. “ What is that you are doing?”
“Playing. If I win they will find a place for us to stay. I play a’ lauvegle, blind, pardon my French. That screen shows them the odds.”
“It shows a 70 percent chance of winning for the computer.”
“Good. This is not the Deep Blue, you know.”
