I can still remember it clearly, many days ago, ryan, hunched over a small slip of soaked paper. His body did little to shield the onslaught of pouring rain; his eyes glazed over, oblivious to everything except those three little numbers.
772
Why. Why? Why?! Why me?!
Ryan never expected much of himself. He did his duties faithfully, working hard, meeting expectations, but it always someone else who got it all. Ryan was satisfied with his little life - grand ambitions only caused pain after certain failure.
But here he was. One call away from perfect reward. He would never need to work again. He would never need to worry again. Those three little numbers.
How was it only this morning that he woke up. He woke up that morning to another day. Another day, one out of a million. But on this typical day, he went out with some friends, and they dared him to buy the ticket. Those three little numbers. Three little numbers.
How could this be? The slow and steady wins the race, not the risky. The risk takers fell far. They lost it all. They always failed. But him? He had won. Not because of hard work, but because of three little numbers.