The old man's ID had his name as Setecientos but he executed his signature as 7??. He was saying something about leaving, or almost leaving the body, seeing himself as if from a distance, seeing it all like light or mist--almost, but not quite. Siete looked more and more steadily into his distant eyes and almost saw that place from where he was almost seen...This is for you, Setecientos said, giving him a $21 bill stamped with a stamp that said answer the phone in a discrete handshake then leaving through an emergency exit. Siete converted the money into casino chips and bet them on the blackjack table, as he assumed he was meant to do. Eventually at $333 he put down $222 and was dealt a 3 and a 7 while the dealer showed a 10. Unsure of his next move, he received a phone call from someone he did not recognize, listed only as Setenta, who, when he cautiously answered, whispered two words as if far away. So he doubled down and pulled an ace, while the dealer turned his other card over to find it was a 12. The girl one the phone giggled then hung up. The dealer underwent the convulsions of an insane man--or not quite insane--twisting his gaze into all corners of the decahedral room; the emergency alarm suddenly, or finally, went off. (But the hilarity and agony were not of anyone other than him, they did not occur except within him. And just then he saw himself as though from a distance, through a bright mist, or from a place that existed of a lighter kind of mist, still gray; only just then, he knew the depths into which the eyes must peer, and those other depths out of which all sound barely escapes.)