Write about: the reversal.
Snow, snow, so much snow...
This was taken a few days ago, but you get the idea:
Just, you know, add the five inches or so of snow that fell today and then you're all set.
P.S. If anyone wants to deliver firewood to my door... I won't say no.
The dealer sweeps my chips off the table, all of them having kept a safe distance from the winning number. Again. I shake my head and place more chips, spreading them around the middle third of the table this time.
"Place your bets please!" The dealer calls in a loud, clear voice. I'm the only player at the table but he has been doing this before every spin. Gotta admire his commitment. "No more bets, please!"
Come on, you stupid little ball. Land right for me, just once. I need this. You know I need this. Come on... come on... yes... yes...
Why does he have to yell the winning number with so much enthusiasm? Especially when it's not my winning number?
"Place your bets please!"
I look down at the chips remaining in my stack. Singular. Where did the rest go? Only enough for one more play. On a hunch I go all in on thirty-six red. I've got a good feeling about this. I'm due. I can't miss.
"No more bets please!"
It's time for a reversal of my non-existent fortunes.