He hopped the first train out of town, with casino ‘security’ on his heels. He had done a little too well at the tables. He wasn’t a cheat, but being too good a gambler was always risky. It was time to move on.
He watched the countryside and felt his years of wandering in his bones. He was dog-tired, but he never managed to settle anywhere for long.
She watched the train roll past and daydreamed. One tangled responsibility or another had kept her in her hometown, but she dreamed of living the exciting, rootless life of a professional gambler.

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