In a city that stood on a hill by the sea, every child born was given a pair of dice...

When everyone is born with a pair of dice that determines their fate, how can one man escape his destiny?

Written by: Jonathan Cohen

Narrated by: Joe Cruz

A Faustian Nonsense production.

To read the full transcript, go to https://thelavendertavern.captivate.fm/episode/the-unlucky-gambler

Transcript​

In a city that stood on a hill by the sea, every child born was given a pair of dice.

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When the doctors had delivered the baby, red and crying, and cleaned it and cut the cord connecting it to its mother, one of the soothsayers would come in with a bowl of dice.

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The bowl was a creamy quartz that gleamed and shone; some said that it dated from before the city, but nobody knew where the soothsayers had found it, and they would never say.

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Inside the bowl were hundreds of dice: blue, yellow, opaque, cloudy, hazy, clear, shiny and dull. All the same size – small enough to fit into a baby’s closed fist. There were two dice of each kind, always.

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The soothsayer would go over to the baby and hold its tiny hand gently, moving the thumb and middle finger together as if the baby was snapping its miniature fingers. Then, two of the dice would fly out of the bowl and into the baby’s hands. And so, the dice would have been chosen.

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Nobody knew why a baby chose a certain pair of dice. There was no way to exchange them with another set in the bowl. Once a baby had chosen a pair of dice, those dice were with them for the rest of their life.

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Some dice were lucky, and some were unlucky.

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“Lucky” was not a word that was used in the city, however. It was considered bad form to discuss whether one was lucky or unlucky. 

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For the dice determined the outcome of every choice that a citizen made. If someone wanted to propose marriage, they rolled their dice to see if they were successful. If they wanted to buy a property, or barter a goat, or apprentice as a blacksmith, the dice would tell the tale. And once the dice were thrown for a particular decision, they could not be thrown again.

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Those with lucky dice lived good lives, and those with unlucky dice did not. But nobody spoke of luck, because everyone had the same chance to pick a lucky set of dice. Some had to get unlucky dice, and that was that.

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And so, it came to pass that on a day of a tremendous thunderstorm in the city, a baby named Anders was born.

Anders’ parents had barely made it to the hospital on time. Their car had broken down, and then their best friend wasn’t available to take them, and finally they were able to hail a taxi, but it stalled in traffic until some good souls helped push it and start it up again.

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Anders’ mother lay in the bed, sweating and cursing, while his father pretended he knew what to do, and let his wife squeeze and squeeze his hand.

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The soothsayer was late. Anders had already been born, and screamed and cried, red-faced, by the time the soothsayer arrived.

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“Apologies,” the soothsayer said, hefting the milky bowl in front of him. “I was nearly in an accident…”

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He need not have said anything. Anders’ mother was glowing, and Anders’ father looked as if he had given birth instead of her. The soothsayer approached the bed and lifted Anders’ tiny right hand. “In the name of fortune,” he said, gently moving the thumb and middle finger.

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The bowl stirred, and dice clacked. After a much longer period than usual, a pair of dice flew out of the bowl and into Anders’ right hand. They were an odd smoky red color that the soothsayer had never seen before. This, however, he kept from Anders’ parents, since a donation was expected after a choosing of the...