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Experiments in Writing--Words of One Syllable
This is the result of an experiment for a writing class that I think was kind of fun: write as far as you can on a story while using only words of one syllable.

When Don won the big pot he was on easy street to stay, right? Wrong.  The smart guys and brassy gals came into his life with ideas on how to spend it, came down like flies on raw meat.  And then it was gone, and so were they, but the bills were still there and the easy way with cash that comes when you have more than you can ever spend or think you do.

Don's girl went early on.  She thought she had a voice on where the cash went.  He said no.  She left.  A bunch of one night or one week girls went through his life while the cash was there, but they left when it left.

The house went not long after the cash.  Banks were happy to loan when he won, when the cash was there, more than he could ever use.  They got the house when the cash ran out.

The job went even prior to the girl.  Don did not even tell his boss he was gone, just left for good.

Kind of sad how all that works.  Give a man cash riches and no sense and the cash leaves.  The taste for what it buys stays, ruins a man.  So now we have what is left from the big win, a man with rich taste and no cash, all set up for the next hit, all set up for me and my way.  I take a man down low.  I take him down where even a big win and a run that spends all the cash will not take him.  I take his soul, not in the old devil and sign in blood way.  The way I do it is worse, far worse.

Don took a walk to the one bar in town that still let him have a tab, the one where he could still get a brew and a smile.  I met him there, not making it look like I knew him.  I felt no guilt.  I leave the wrecks of lives more torn up than I find them.  That is what I do.