Million Dollar Ticket

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Lewis is used to pushing beat-up grocery carts and collecting cans from peoples' garbages and alleys in the cold city of Chicago, but all of a sudden his luck is about to change. Will Lewis blow his once in a lifetime chance?

Submitted: November 21, 2008

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Submitted: November 21, 2008

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\"Excuse me sir, can you please spair some change?\" murmured Lewis under his breath as a young man with a Raiders hat walked into the 7-11, not even noticing Lewis' plea. Lewis recounted the two dollars and seventy-nine cents he had made so far when he heard someone calling out, \"Excuse me, you can't be here, you better leave or I call police.\" The voice had an Arabian accent and when Lewis looked up, he saw a tall, older Arabian with a thick, long beard and what appeared to be a white rag converted into a silly hat. \"Man, I ain't done nothin!\" replied Lewis in immediate combative mode. It's 'cause I'm black, ain't it! Huh?\" shouted Lewis as he grabbed his odorous coat and plastic bag stuffed with soda cans he had collected from the garbage. \"Go back to your country! You desert monkey terrorist!\" Lewis shouted as he paraded across the parking lot and walked away the 7-11 further into the cold, busy streets of Chicago. Walking at a fast pace, Lewis looked up and gazed at a huge city billboard advertising the latest Mercury Milan. \"Wish I had me one of those\" he said. His five-second dream shattered by the sound of a car's horn. \"Get a job you lazy bum!\" shouted an angry driver shaking his head as he sped off splashing Lewis with street water. In frustration, Lewis flipped off the sky but nothing could be heard but the sound of screeching tire. A few blocks down, Lewis arrived under the freeway bridge and securely stashed his cans by the concrete wall where his blankets hid. He lay down his odorous blue Tommy Hilfiger jacket and sat down, completely igonoring the smell of rotton sewage. Reaching into his jean pocket, he pulled out a Marlboro cigarette package. In it was a small glass pipe and he dispensed a powdery white substance into it. His fingers shook violently as he sparked the lighter. He threw rocks at some nearby pidgeons and cursed angrily but nothing could be heard but the busy cars speeding above him. In despair, Lewis sat and thought about his life. He realized he didn't want to die like this. He picked up a nearby paper flyer that read \"JESUS LOVES YOU, JOIN LATTER DAY SAINTS.\" Lewis sighed in disbeleif and yelled, \"There is no God!\" He crushed the paper and threw it down to the muddy water. \"I need me a 7-11 hot dog.\" With an unexplained energy, Lewis got up and decided to bust a mission to 7-11. At the light, he felt as if he was being watched. He turned around and saw a Chicago Police patrol car lurking by, and as the cop peered into Lewis' eyes, Lewis quickly turned away. \"Damn pigs,\" he thought. Arriving at the gas station at the corner of Broadway and Brick avenue, Lewis saw a handome black man dressed in a fancy suit pumping gas into a new black Mercury Milan, just like the one Lewis dreamed of. Lewis smiled, a secret smile, pulled his hood on, glanced around, and quietly approached the man from behind. \"Brotha\" Lewis said and he dug his hands deeper into his pockets. \"You got any spair change?\" The man froze for a second, stood taller, fixed his silk tie, scratched his head, and out of his pocket he pulled out a ticket. \"I do not have any money on me my friend.\" he said with a thick African accent, \"But here, have this lottery ticket. \"Thanks, God bless you\" Lewis said but in his head he knew there was no God and in his head he was thinking that the African man was a liar and that he did have change. As Lewis walked into the 7-11, he noticed the same Arab man at the counter, but before the Arab said anything, Lewis blurted, \"I have money this time!\" showing him the handful of coins he had. Lewis salivated as he prepared that delicious, fat, mouth-watering, pork hot dog and as he served coffee, his dirty hands stained the foam cup. The Arab just kept a close eye, watching every move Lewis made. As Lewis payed, he gave the Arab the aluminum pink lottery ticket and the Arab scanned it closely, every detail, ready for any slight abnormality to call it a fraud and kick Lewis out of the store, but there was a sudden twist. He looked up at Lewis in surprise and got tense. He literally began jumping as he read the ticket. \"The hells a matter with you, man?\" Lewis questioned. \"You won! You won!\" Said the Arab. \"Huh?\" \"Yes! Twenty-four millions! In my store! He won everybody!\" The two customers in the store dropped what they were doing and stared in confusion as to what was going on, seeing an Arab and a black homeless man dancing with eachother. \"I'm a millionaire! And hugged the Arab. \"There really is a God.\" As the television reporters were on their way, Lewis looked up past the buildings and imagined a brand new Mercury Milan with twenty-two inch rims and smiled, that secretive smile.


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