Tracks

A sweaty brow, racing pulse, a mind full of numbers and a fist full of cash. Dean stood next to the track where the dogs had pounded the ground an hour before and contemplated his next move.

Looking down at the money he knew he should call it a day but his mind couldn’t help but think about what he could pull off. He already had enough to pay off the outstanding bills and then treat his wife to a new coat. He lit a cigarette and inhaled heavily. Turning on his heels he walked away from the track and towards his car.

Dean assured himself that his wife would never know that he got the cash from the dogs, he would say it would be from the job that she think he has. He sat in the car and switched on the ignition but he couldn’t keeps his eyes off the track in his rear-view mirror. Just one more, he thought as he removed the keys and walked back towards the stadium with a fist full of money and mind full of numbers.

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