“Wait!” Stumbling to grab her book bag,
Chelsea speeds into a run. The 107 Cavendish splashes by, literally. Looking
down at her soaking bag and overalls, she sighs heavily.
This was clearly not Chelsea’s morning. Her boyfriend left her, she broke the plate she was eating breakfast on, lost her keys and was unexpectedly wishing she could just get to work. Work. Her least favourite place. Filled with unhappy old men and irritating hopeful young women. How she had acquired this job was a mystery, but she stays satisfied because it pays the rent. With Marcus gone, she was lost. AND she was without plates.
After a long journey down town, Chelsea arrived. Uncomfortably sitting at her desk in her damp blue blazer really boosted her confidence. She was now feeling like a mutt. Ruffling her papers around she notices a yellow piece of paper, it's her daily ticket! The one thing she needed on this dreadful day was a smile, and she had succeeded. Her only hope was this ticket…
She was a 649 addict. 2pm everyday a golden ticket lay in her hand, enthralling.
Never won before, clearly. But she was ever hopeful. A dedicated buyer she believed it was her turn, her one chance to fix her life. What she would do with the money, is unknown at this moment... but she feels it would go to good use, not only to her but to others. A generic plan that she has been praying to get a chance at.
This was clearly not Chelsea’s morning. Her boyfriend left her, she broke the plate she was eating breakfast on, lost her keys and was unexpectedly wishing she could just get to work. Work. Her least favourite place. Filled with unhappy old men and irritating hopeful young women. How she had acquired this job was a mystery, but she stays satisfied because it pays the rent. With Marcus gone, she was lost. AND she was without plates.
After a long journey down town, Chelsea arrived. Uncomfortably sitting at her desk in her damp blue blazer really boosted her confidence. She was now feeling like a mutt. Ruffling her papers around she notices a yellow piece of paper, it's her daily ticket! The one thing she needed on this dreadful day was a smile, and she had succeeded. Her only hope was this ticket…
She was a 649 addict. 2pm everyday a golden ticket lay in her hand, enthralling.
Never won before, clearly. But she was ever hopeful. A dedicated buyer she believed it was her turn, her one chance to fix her life. What she would do with the money, is unknown at this moment... but she feels it would go to good use, not only to her but to others. A generic plan that she has been praying to get a chance at.
~
“And the numbers are!” Chelsea
grips onto her seat, looking down at her last hope. A yellow piece of paper with 6 numbers. “1…4…7…5…5…” She was nervous, so close…would
today be her day? “2.”
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