Gambling Away My Grasp on Reality ...Middle East

Photo-Illustration: The Cut On the third day of my gambling binge, a grandma dressed as a pharaoh said there would be purple unicorn charms at a graveyard. I think it was a Sunday night, maybe early Monday morning, but meth makes timelines fuzzy and booze makes everything else a blur. So when an anthropomorphic firework said it was the Fourth of July, I panicked. I’d started playing poker when the calendar said June and I knew I had enough saved up to survive for the next couple months while I looked for another job. But rather than buy food or pay rent, I’d spent that $5,000 on a bunch of gems with no real-world value. And now,

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