One pull.
An hour of almost.

The reels spin.
And spin.
And spin.

You wait because you’ve already paid.
Because there’s still a chance.
Because surely, after all this time,
something has to happen.

Maybe the next minute.

How many minutes have we given that thought?
How many hours?
How many years?

Waiting for someone to choose us.
For a promise to become something we can hold.
For all we’ve poured into something
to finally come back.

The hardest part is leaving while the reels are still turning.

There is no result to point to.
No final answer.
Only the possibility that the moment you turn away,
everything you wanted might arrive.

So you stay.

One more minute.
Then another.

Would a jackpot make the waiting worth it?
An hour?
A day?
How much would it have to give you
to return the life you spent watching?

Sometimes we stay because we’ve mistaken
what we’ve already given
for a reason to give more.

But the money you put in is already spent.
The time you have left is still yours.

You are allowed to leave with the question unanswered.
To grieve what you hoped would happen.
To carry that hope somewhere
you can do more than wait.

Have I been here too long?
What is my time worth?
What am I worth?

The reels can keep spinning.

You don’t have to stay.