“One ticket please,” I adjured blandly while pulling a single dollar out of my brown leather wallet. I slapped it onto the counter and snatched the Mega Millions ticket from the store clerk’s hand. This was my routine, every Friday after a long day at the office.
“See you next Friday, Tom.” She scoffed.
“Thanks.” I mumbled, not bothering to look at her before waltzing out of the CVS drugstore with my briefcase in my hand. A chill ran down my spine as I stepped out into the frigid December air in Missouri, I pulled my black parka out from under my arm and slipped it on. The streets of Jefferson City are filled with poor people begging for money this time of year. I keep my eyes glued to the street as I look for a cab because I know that if I make eye contact with someone, I’ll have to give them money. If I don’t, everyone around me might see and I’ll look like a bad person.
“Excuse me, sir,” coughed an unfamiliar voice. I heard it clearly, but decided whoever this man was, he was talking to someone else. I wasn’t the only one on the street. It wasn’t until the second time I heard it that I felt it was necessary to look around me.
He was a dirty man in his mid 40s with unkempt facial hair and defined wrinkles on his forehead. The greying brown hair on his head growing near his shoulders look like mine, but longer and it obviously has not combed for days or even weeks. The bags under his brown eyes were evidence of his lack of sleep. I couldn’t help but to stare. He was wearing what a somewhat decent tee-shirt, but he had a blanket as dirty as a bathroom floor draped across his lap for warmth. Of course I instantly pitied him, but I acted natural. I knew what was coming next.
“My name’s John. I haven’t eaten today,” He hinted, “do you think you could lend me some money... anything?” He was clearly ashamed of the fact that he had to ask me.
“Sorry, I don’t have anything on me,” I lied. He gave me a that’s-what-they-all-say glare, but he didn’t push it. A few moments of awkward silence passed as I desperately searched for a cab.

The thought of winning one day has always stuck in the back of my head like a catchy jingle. My dad always dreamed of winning the lottery. When he was young, he could barely afford food for the night. It got worse when both of my grandparents lost their jobs. They sold their house and moved into a smaller one, but it still wasn’t enough. They struggled like this for about 10 years. Eventually, they all got different jobs, but it was hard for them to get back on their feet after such a long time. I always wanted to win so that I know I will never have to face the same struggles that they did. I wanted to win in his honor.
I escaped my thoughts and grabbed the fresh cup of coffee from my coffee maker and made my way towards my sofa. I turned my TV on and relaxed, putting on WSB-TV where I knew the winning lottery numbers would soon be displayed. I was doubtful, as I was every week.
The first number popped up on the screen, 1. Lucky guess. The next number, 8. My hope rising each second. Next number, 15. I’m starting to think that I actually have a chance. Next number, 36. I jumped out of my seat. Next number, 43. I’m shaking with anticipation. Last number, 6. I’m speechless. I won. After decades of trying, I finally won the lottery, and it was all mine to keep. Being so caught up in the moment, I didn’t even put my name on my winning ticket before I dash out my front door.
Living in Jefferson City, the Missouri Lottery Headquarters was decently close to my apartment building. I sloppily shoved the ticket in my back pocket and practically dove into my car, plugging the address into my GPS as quickly as possible. As soon as the GPS located the route to my destination, I took off. Slamming the gas petal to the floor of my 2016 Toyota Camry. I decided to make a pit stop to CVS quickly to buy myself a celebratory drink for later. I jumped with joy and pride, but tried to act natural. I was in and out as hastily as my long legs could carry me. It was only minutes later that I arrived at the Headquarters, although it seemed like hours. I could see the workers starting to close for the night. I ran into the building up to the front desk just before they could lock me out.
“I have the winning ticket!” I boomed getting ahead of myself. “I have the winning mega millions lottery ticket from today!”
“Congratulations,” voiced the woman at the front desk unenthusiastically, “I’ll get you started on some paperwork now. May I see the ticket please?” She extended her hand out to me
I ruffled my hand around in the back pocket to grab the ticket. Confused, I ruffled my hand around in my other pocket. My face fell.
“Is everything okay, sir?” She questioned, obviously noticing my change in attitude.
I continued searching through every pocket on me. “I think it fell in my car, let me go get it.”
“I’m sorry, sir, we’re closing up now. You can certainly come back next Monday. We’re open at 7 am., but if this is a scam, please don’t return.” she brought forth.
“This isn’t a scam!” Now i was angry. Not at her, but at myself. How could I have let this happen? It’s in my car right now! It’ll only take me five minutes to bring back!”
“I’m sorry, sir, but it’s policy.” She replied with a frown.
I sulked out, defeated and upset. I had to keep my victory a secret all weekend and search for my ticket. To cheer myself up, I thought of all the things I could buy with my new fortune. I would quit my job first, and move into a big house. I would buy the nicest car on the market and show it off around town. The smile on my face quickly faded when I opened my car door and nothing was there. My ticket was nowhere to be seen. I frantically searched for a second time, nothing. I cried out in frustration, beyond upset with my current situation. I banged my fist on my seat and decided to just go home, I would deal with this later.

Outside the CVS drugstore,  John was slapped in his face with a small piece of paper. Curious, he picked it up and examined it. It was a lottery ticket with today’s winning numbers, and it had no name on it.