A game of Destiny
The bartender nodded curiously.
"And when was the last time you flipped a coin?" he asked.
"I was ten years old when I flipped it, and since then... never again."
"Do you believe in destiny?" the bartender asked, resting his hands on the edge of the table.
"No," Emma pointed to the ninth Martini glass, realizing that her eyelids were starting to feel heavy from fatigue. The bartender placed a tequila shot glass in front of her and smiled. "What's this? That doesn't look like a Martini," the man at the bar smiled.