On a cold winter evening, I met her, her cheeks chapped from tears frozen from the cold.

We took up talking for a while, and as I listened, I could tell she was out of aces, bound for nowhere.

She had the look of someone running away, with nowhere to go. Fleeing, not advancing.

I had a bit of advice. I've got no clue whether she took it.

I just hope she remembers the gambler whenever she gets to a place she could call home.