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We’ve won the lottery!, I said.

I had never won the lottery before, and neither had my husband. Right before, silver shavings falling in my lap, I could feel that it was coming as the moments of knowing for sure grew closer and closer. The inside of me bubbled over, refused to calm and stay contained. I knew we would win. I scratched the silver away and needed an “A”.  The corner was blank, and then I saw the apex…an “A”!  We reached the precious moment together and he showed calm, but insisted on collecting the prize himself. His way of naming and claiming the fortune, I reckon. It’s for sure–we had won the lottery.

It happened while we sat in our pajamas, still in bed in the afternoon, having to answer to no company while the sun breaks through the curtains, having scheduled no appointments or deliveries before lunch. We can sleep comfortably on our pending wealth.  Right before we won the lottery, we were reading torn paperbacks, each our chosen own.

I suppose, though, the winning actually happened, when we bought the ticket at the corner store. When the person before us and before them and before and before purchased each of those tickets in order to give us our perforated winning edges. No matter. Once we turned in our scratch-off crossword puzzle and collected our fifty dollars, we were epic lottery winners and nothing can ever change that kind of fame.

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