Smoke filled the room as I walked around the green felt. My right eye shut tight as my left eye squinted to a narrow slit in a last minute attempt to line up my shot. Sweat forming on my scalp as the body heat radiating from my head was trapped with my white UCLA baseball cap. I felt nervous. This was the most important shot of the game. I had to sink the eight ball. I looked down the narrow sight line at the white cue ball and then the shiny black marble like material that seemed to be moving in all directions, yet going nowhere. I noticed my hands shaking as if they
were about to have a seizure all their own. I closed my eyes and stood straight up in order to calm myself down. I walked over to the table where two ladies were sitting watching the game.
The one on the left offered me a drag of her cigarette to calm my nerves. I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, forming a cloud of smoke under the lantern hanging over the table. The smoke filled light made the bar look eerie as if this was all a dream. I puts my clammy hands together, crossing all
of my fingers and pushed out and then in. Everyone in the bar could hear the cracking sound of my tense knuckles. I walked back over to the green felt that had become my worst nightmare. The 300 dollars I had already lost kept running through my brain, repeating like an insane man singing the same song over and over. I shook my head to release it of the sound and focused on the shot that could determine if I would eat that coming week. I powered my hands and...