dear lottery
Dear Lottery, My fingers trace the worn edges of the ticket, its numbers a faded reflection of a dream. You, my dear lottery, are a whisper of possibility, a chance encounter with fortune. With each spin of the wheel, a surge of hope courses through me. I envision the joy of winning, the weight of worry lifted, the freedom to pursue passions long deferred. My imagination paints vivid pictures of a life transformed, a world where financial burdens are mere echoes of a past struggle. But you, dear lottery, are a fickle mistress. Your embrace is fleeting, your allure irresistible. You promise a life of luxury, yet leave behind the sting of disappointment for countless others. Still, I cant help but cling to your allure. The possibility, however slim, of escaping the mundane, of achieving the extraordinary, keeps me coming back, ticket in hand, year after year. Perhaps, dear lottery, you are not just a game of chance, but a reflection of our own desires. A reminder that even in the most ordinary of lives, dreams can still flicker to life, fueled by the hope of something more. So, I hold onto this ticket, a tangible symbol of the aspirations I hold dear. And while I may not be your lucky winner today, I will continue to dream, to believe, to hold onto the faint whisper of your promise. With longing,Your faithful hopeful.