For thirty years I drove that old Buick to the gas station every Tuesday morning to buy the same numbers, for thirty years I listened to my husband spit out, “You’re just throwing money out the window,” and then yesterday morning I saw $200 million flash across the screen, signed my name on that ticket at seventy-four, filed for divorce before he even opened his eyes, and when the whole family started looking at me like I was the problem, I knew they had prepared something behind my back a little too early
The numbers on my tablet looked unreal only for the first ten seconds. After that, they looked dangerous. Powerball 9….