Henrik always swore he’d quit. The late-night poker games, the bottomless whiskey, the reckless bets. But every Friday at 10:15 sharp, the cart rolled in, gliding across the penthouse floor, its glass shelves trembling under the weight of crystal decanters and half-smoked cigars.
Tonight, it held something different—an untouched glass of water and an unopened envelope. A final bet had been placed, but not at the table. His fate rested in ink now, not in the fickle turn of a card.
The dealer called his name, but Henrik stayed seated, fingers tracing the smooth wood of the cart’s frame. Maybe this time, he’d finally fold.
- 21.5"h, 23.25"dia
- Beech, glass, plastic
- Condition: Excellent; a few light scuffs to top curved part of wood frame