Feeding the Beast

           It's starting again. My mind is thinking about money - money to play
the pokies. Whether I win or lose I still need more to feed the beasts. I call them beasts
because they're always hungry - hungry for money.

          It all started in 1993. I watched as my friend dropped a few coins into a poker
machine. He pressed a few buttons and symbols spun on the screen and music played.
Then everything stopped. "What happens now?" I asked.

          "It's over!" he replied. "I lost!"

          "Oh!" I said. "That was quick!" We walked away. (If only I'd kept on walking
and not looked back.)

          Then I was going every other night, then every night. My husband once said,

          "You're sick!" when I returned home after losing to borrow money off him.

          He allowed me some cash and off I sped back to feed the beasts. Oddly enough,
I won that night with borrowed money.

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