For Dan
Alexander counted the knives.
'One...'
He took a breath.
'One. One knife.'
The canvas of their tent
was a shadow play called Fifty Hungry Wolves.
The silhouettes carouselled slowly.
Alex and his broker exchanged awkward glances.
Travel Monopoly was looking less and less
like a possibility this evening,
and the dried apricots had been a total washout.
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