Dispatches From My Riverboat Casino Quarantine
I write this letter with shaking hands, not knowing whom it will reach. My name is not important; my old life is gone now. All that matters is that The Ones Who Walk Upon The Land know what happened aboard the Cecilia Belle, the riverboat casino upon which myself and 32 other unlucky gamblers have been quarantined for the past seven months. Lo, our quarantine, once the most jovial of isolations, has since become fraught and full of peril.
Oh, reader, I know what you must be thinking! “How can we possibly feel pity for you?” you ask as you sip your hot coffee, wearing shoes that you have not yet had to barter for toilet paper. “Being trapped on a riverboat casino sounds like the best possible way to experience quarantine.” Reader, I did agree with you, once! After all, the day I stepped foot on the Cecilia Belle was the happiest of my life. “I wish the government would ban me from leaving this riverboat casino,” I cried in ecstasy when I won my first hand of poker against an impish dandy named Clafoutis. “Oh, how I wish I could stay here forever and ever,” I muttered when I first laid eyes on the magnificent gumbo that Chef Kevin ladled into our bowls. Those were the salad days, and they were abundant in their pleasures.
When we learned that we were to be quarantined, our mirth did not dissipate. We continued to frolic and gamble merrily…
