She always slept like that. She shifted slightly in her sleep, the gentlest of moans escaping her lips. A heavy breath, perhaps. A fragment of a dream...that wasn't quite enough to disturb her sleep.He could smell the lavender she always put in the laundry. The sheets always smelled of lavender, of her. It was just another thing to remind him. He also recognized the clutter on the nightstand — framed photographs, a half empty glass of water, a box of Kleenex; on the floor, a heap of yesterday's. So it was no surprise that an hour had passed and I was up quite a bit. There were a few players sitting at the table with me, one of them was a gentleman who looked like your typical corporate salesman. Off the rack suit, clean shaven, decent looking. He was staring at the stack of chips in front of me shaking his head."Man, I can't believe anyone is that lucky. What is that now, six hands in a row?" I smiled at him and said, "Seven, actually. And although luck has a fair amount to do with any. More

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