Essay About Sounds Of Poker Chips And Sounds Of Happiness

The Hand of Gambling
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The Hand of Gambling
Feeling the sweatiness run down my soft tan face as it continue slowly running down my flat chest, as if I was jogging. My heart is pumping so loud, that my small skin ears made connection with it. Seeing so many people had slowly past right by me, as it felt like I was in my own world. Feeling so much pressure on me was not that great, feels like theres a pound of dust on me, that it was to unbelievable to brush it off. Throwing in this fifty five thousands dollar worth of poker chips on the big green thick table surrounded by millions of people- was not a good idea. The sounds of poker chips throwing in the middle “tick tick tick” one after another, it had created huge colorful pile. Hearing the thin red, white cards flipping back and forth, along with peanuts crushing by the person a few sits away from me. Seeing in each and every ones eyes are full of glory as if they were grateful of the flat cards they have receive. I can hear the laughter inside of them, the pity words, the put downs that clearly, they knew that they had a chance of winning. Slowly theirs eyes would continually stayed wide open as their cards had reflect off their white round eyes along with their small pupil. It had reflected so clearly as if I saw one his cards right through his hands which was right across from me. We all men had glared at each other and we all had through down our cards slowly. My eye was full of jacks, aces, queens, kings, and one through ten from each and every corner of my eye. It looks so unbelievable that what had crossed my eyes, full house, straight, doubles, and aces. I started to lose focus; my eyes were moving all over the place trying to find something that I didnt know what. When I finally got my eyes to stay in focus, eyes saw something that I clearly did not want to see. The sounds of happiness, cheering, screaming, voice of shame, the sound of foot jumping up in down had gone through one ear to another. Just the sound of sight that I had let out, I knew that was the end of it. More likely, the end of my story book of family had ended. I knew there were no next pages. It was the end of the book. Gambling all the thick sweaty money that I had worked my bare hands for, had vanish.