dear lottery 6:00 p.m.
Dear Lottery,6:00 p.m. the air crackles with anticipation. I sit here, clutching my ticket, a tiny piece of paper holding a universe of possibilities. Every number feels like a whispered prayer, a hopeful plea for a life transformed. The clock ticks, each second a slow, agonizing beat. I imagine the numbers swirling, then settling into a winning combination. For a fleeting moment, I envision myself basking in the warm glow of a sundrenched beach, the world my oyster. I see myself free from the shackles of financial worries, able to pursue every dream, every whim. Then reality sets in. The numbers are drawn, the winning combination announced. My heart sinks, a familiar ache in my chest. The ticket lies discarded, a reminder of dreams deferred, of hopes dashed. But even in the face of disappointment, I hold onto a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this time will be different. Maybe this time, my name will be called. Maybe this time, 6:00 p.m. will mark the beginning of a new chapter in my life. So, Dear Lottery, I hold onto that hope, that glimmer of possibility. I keep dreaming, keep believing, because even in the face of the odds, I know that one ticket, one chance, can change everything.