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Click here"We have only one chip to present tonight, but it's a very special one, for a very special person. In all my years with the program, I have never seen anyone come so far in so short a time. It can only be called a miracle. One year of being drug free and sober is an important event. Please join me in celebrating the first birthday of Miss Lisa Carlton!"
And while Lisa Carlton blew out her birthday candle and accepted her One Year Chip, the last trace of Isabella De Carlo vanished with the smoke.
* * * * *
Donald Lynch, as he did seven nights a week, scanned the floor of the casino for fallen chips until he was thrown out on his ear one more time. If he was lucky, he just might find a lost poker chip or two. He is avoided by everyone now. Even the homeless people who hide in the landscaping near the freeway onramp, those who dig through dumpsters and trash cans for empty soda and beer cans and bottles; even those who hadn't had a bath or a shower in months told him he wasn't wanted in their camp.. It wasn't because of his ghastly appearance but for the smell he emitted. No one calls him Don anymore. He is known as Sulfur.
* * * * *
Ms. Penelope Collins sat behind her desk for the first time that day and slipped off her black pumps with a sigh of relief. She'd spent the entire morning at the podium, detailing her market strategy to the corporate committee from Houston. She'd spent the rest of the afternoon escorting the group on a tour of The Company's facilities. She was pouring herself a much deserved cup of tea when there was a soft tapping on the heavy glass door to her office. She looked up to see a security guard and a nervous young man.
The guard was tall and thin. He appeared to be about fifty, with thinning hair and aviator eyeglasses that were popular in the Eighties. As she motioned for them to enter, the guard smiled and she noticed that his teeth were crooked. She returned his smile affectionately.
"Michael, how wonderful it is to see you! It's been ages since we've spoken. How have you been?"
"Hello, Ms. Collins, I've been better, but it costs more. It's certainly a pleasure to see you again, as well. I hope we're not intruding."
"Certainly not; I was about to have some tea. Won't you join me? Who is your handsome young friend?"
"Ms. Collins, this is Jonathan David Potter. John is new here and appears to be just a little bit lost. I found him wandering the hallways. I was hoping you might be able to help him out."
"Why, Michael, it would be my pleasure. Welcome to the company, Jonathan. Have a seat, both of you, and I'll pour us some tea."
The security guard smiled his crooked grin and replied, "Thank-you, Ms. Collins, that's very kind of you."
"Nonsense, Michael, the pleasure is all mine."
* * * * *
And Mary King sings in the choir. She sings for Love. She sings for her faith.
She sings for all of the souls lost in sin, and for all of those found in Grace.
She also sings because she looks so damned good in her choir robe!
End
*****
Author's note: A couple of things. I was up to chapter five before I realized I'd been copying and pasting from three different versions of the same story. My transition from Word to Pages is not going well. I think the only thing lost was Mike's tour of the cubicle area. Not necessary for the plot, but an interesting view of the office workplace through the eyes of the janitor.
Just as every artist needs his paintings to be seen and every musician needs his music to be heard, every author needs to have his words read. Thank-you for taking the time to read my little story. I hope it warmed your heart and made you smile, for that was my intention.
—Pat Benny