He died afraid.

I will explain myself.

I was born in München, Bavaria on the 16th of August, 1886. It is my birthday, and this will be my birthday present.

I am aware this is a confession book of some kind so I will confess to it. Here is my confession: I killed the previous owner. That is all. This will now be a simple journal.

My name is Otto. I will be returning to the fatherland for the war soon. I have spent enough time in the U.S. for many lifetimes, it is time to go home.

I go too fast. I have read all of his entries, as he calls them, and he speaks to God in this book. I will do the same, for no specific reason. The previous owner did not give his name and it does not appear in this book, so I will call him Adam, as he came first. I know a little theology, I am not entirely godless. Do not judge me, please.

I am a gambler. I gamble for money because I am good at it. I will tell you the story of how I became aware of my skill in gambling, as I believe it will be interesting to you. Here it is:

I was eleven, living in München still. Munich. I must remember that God is American. I was living in Munich as a street rat, though my parents did not know of it. I lived with them. They were dears to me, I must tell you about them sometime.

So, I was in Munich, in a bar I will not disclose for the little privacy I am allowed, Father. My friends and I frequented this bar, though I must admit I do not know how we were allowed. We didn’t drink. We played games there, the kind of games eleven year olds play. I need not describe them to you, Lord, as you were there, I presume.

We grew tired of our games after many months there. There were not enough new faces to break. We got to playing cards. I do not know where the cards came from, though someone will have stolen them I am sure. The deck was missing a joker but we had plenty of them at the bar. Are you laughing? You are not laughing. I will continue.

I learned a game of two from the few new faces in the bar and I taught them to my friends, but never well enough for them to have any chance of beating me. Children have tender egos. They put up money, they lost money, I lost a tooth, I kept the money. Life was good.

A new face tried to play me after my friends left one night. He was an old man to me. Thirty, I think. He won. He kept winning. I was no good. I was good at cheating, but not good at cards. He taught me to be good at both, and eventually I was.

There is the story. Did you like it? I hope you liked it, I’m trying to win you over. I know I am a villain to you, but I am just a man. You made me, same as you made Adam, and Adam was a favorite of yours. I can tell. I presume he’s reading this over your shoulder, am I wrong? I would guess not.

I am having much fun with this book! I am having so much fun, I will gamble with you. Here are the stakes:

I believe this book is cursed. I have no reason to believe this, but I do so strongly that I bet my life on it. I must, for this book kills its owner. It has already killed one and it will kill again, given the chance. I am giving it the chance. I wager my life on this, but if I am wrong I want to become rich, and you will be the one to do it. Is it a deal? Good. I will be waiting for my riches, then.

Something stabs at my mind, audience. Why was our Adam afraid as he died? It would be fitting of a sinner as myself to think of hell or of an abyss as he died, but not our Adam. Adam would be expecting heaven, no? It tears my heart out to say, but Adam perhaps was less than convinced of your gospel. Or perhaps he was a sinner like me. I will find out when I join him in this curse.

Unlike Adam I love trains. I will be taking one today from Klamath Falls back to New York City and it will be great fun!