Infective Ink » June 25th: I won the lottery! Now, where’s the ticket? battery operated doorbell The Ticket, by Evelyn Krieger
June 25th: I won the lottery! Now, where’s the ticket? The Ticket , by Evelyn Krieger
There were only six numbers to check, battery operated doorbell but, just to be sure, Dolores put on her reading glasses. On the kitchen table, the newspaper was opened battery operated doorbell to the all-important page. Dolores lined up her ticket with the newspaper numbers, and compared them with such deliberation that one would have thought she was half-blind. Dolores read the numbers aloud, slowly, succinctly, like she did when calling for Bingo. 9…14…21…24…26…30.
A warm sensation spread battery operated doorbell across the back of her neck. Dolores s pulse quickened. She smacked her palms together and let out a scream that bounced battery operated doorbell off the kitchen walls and sent the parakeets careening in their cage.
She cried, then laughed, and screamed once more. She jumped up from the chair and did a quick cha-cha. She For years she had fantasized of this moment. Week after week. Ticket after ticket. Now, her prayers had been answered. Dolores Marion Cheswick held between her trembling fingers, a paper ticket worth 2.5 million dollars. battery operated doorbell
It was 7:30 on a Saturday morning. In just a few minutes, her husband Ed would return from walking his dog, his damn dog, as Dolores referred to it. She stared at the ticket, her mind buzzing with possible hiding places. Come Monday morning, she would have to get a safety deposit box, but in the meantime, Dolores feared the ticket would get crumpled battery operated doorbell or ripped or wet, or lost! Her heart quickened. Where to stash it now? Certainly not her purse. Dresser drawers were too risky. Dolores stood up, her legs shaking, and looked out the window. Her husband was standing across battery operated doorbell the street waiting for the dog to do its business. Rotten Rottweiler.
Dolores rushed down the hallway and into the living room. She eyed the wall-to-ceiling bookshelf bursting with musty books of every sort and stacks of old magazines that Ed refused to throw out. For years she had asked him to get rid of his clutter, the antiques chairs he never got around to fixing, battery operated doorbell the newspapers piles, the collection of beer bottles, fishing rods, rusty tools, wood pieces, milk crates. Dolores smiled when she saw her book, Your Money or Your Life , on the bottom shelf, mixed in with Ed s back issues of Smithsonian and obsolete travel guides. The book title seemed so perfect that Dolores thought it might be a sign from God. Dolores removed the book, opened its cover, and placed the ticket inside.
The chimes rang on the back door. Dolores tucked the book in the shelf, then dashed down the hall and locked herself in the bathroom. She heard Riley barking. Damn dog . Dolores knew she wasn t in any shape to face Ed. How in the world could she act normal again?
In the refuge of the shower, Dolores let those numbers dance in her head. She smiled as the water ran down her face. Freedom! She d quit her stinking job and finally get out of Hillsdale. See the Grand Canyon, Fiji, Paris, Vienna. She d spend time with her sister in Rio. Hook up with her old friend Carolyn in Palm Beach. Maybe meet a man who knew how to have a good time. Of course, first she would have to get Ed out of the picture.
The Shop and Save! Dolores hadn t even thought about where she d gotten the ticket. For years she bought in Ashland, or at the Mobil Station, or over in Southfield, playing whatever numbers popped into her head. Now her head felt like it would burst. She took a deep breath.
That night Dolores waited for her husband to fall asleep before slipping into bed. She had, again, rechecked the numbers on her ticket, this time placing it in a small, white envelope and back inside the book. Her body felt relaxed after a glass of wine. While Ed snored, Dolores plotted. She wasn t about the share her win fall with him. Ed made a decent income and had a good retirement fund. Now she would not have to depend on him anymore. For years Dolores felt deprived of affection and the pursuit of her dreams. battery operated doorbell She thought of all the years she devoted to raising their three sons, who turned out spoiled rotten anyway. She d given up a college degree battery operated doorbell and travel dreams to do what she thought she was supposed to do. What had happed to that young woman who wanted to climb mountains and learn five languages?
Dolores thought of the bags of junk Ed had brought home that afternoon from the flea markets. battery operated doorbell More rare books that would prove to be worth little. battery operated doorbell Dolores had always lived by the principle of one new thing in, one old thing out. She had begged her husband to stop going to estate battery operated doorbell sales. Once, Dolores hired a Feng Shui consultant, hoping he would inspire Ed to get rid of the suffocating collection of junk that had inv
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June 25th: I won the lottery! Now, where’s the ticket? The Ticket , by Evelyn Krieger
There were only six numbers to check, battery operated doorbell but, just to be sure, Dolores put on her reading glasses. On the kitchen table, the newspaper was opened battery operated doorbell to the all-important page. Dolores lined up her ticket with the newspaper numbers, and compared them with such deliberation that one would have thought she was half-blind. Dolores read the numbers aloud, slowly, succinctly, like she did when calling for Bingo. 9…14…21…24…26…30.
A warm sensation spread battery operated doorbell across the back of her neck. Dolores s pulse quickened. She smacked her palms together and let out a scream that bounced battery operated doorbell off the kitchen walls and sent the parakeets careening in their cage.
She cried, then laughed, and screamed once more. She jumped up from the chair and did a quick cha-cha. She For years she had fantasized of this moment. Week after week. Ticket after ticket. Now, her prayers had been answered. Dolores Marion Cheswick held between her trembling fingers, a paper ticket worth 2.5 million dollars. battery operated doorbell
It was 7:30 on a Saturday morning. In just a few minutes, her husband Ed would return from walking his dog, his damn dog, as Dolores referred to it. She stared at the ticket, her mind buzzing with possible hiding places. Come Monday morning, she would have to get a safety deposit box, but in the meantime, Dolores feared the ticket would get crumpled battery operated doorbell or ripped or wet, or lost! Her heart quickened. Where to stash it now? Certainly not her purse. Dresser drawers were too risky. Dolores stood up, her legs shaking, and looked out the window. Her husband was standing across battery operated doorbell the street waiting for the dog to do its business. Rotten Rottweiler.
Dolores rushed down the hallway and into the living room. She eyed the wall-to-ceiling bookshelf bursting with musty books of every sort and stacks of old magazines that Ed refused to throw out. For years she had asked him to get rid of his clutter, the antiques chairs he never got around to fixing, battery operated doorbell the newspapers piles, the collection of beer bottles, fishing rods, rusty tools, wood pieces, milk crates. Dolores smiled when she saw her book, Your Money or Your Life , on the bottom shelf, mixed in with Ed s back issues of Smithsonian and obsolete travel guides. The book title seemed so perfect that Dolores thought it might be a sign from God. Dolores removed the book, opened its cover, and placed the ticket inside.
The chimes rang on the back door. Dolores tucked the book in the shelf, then dashed down the hall and locked herself in the bathroom. She heard Riley barking. Damn dog . Dolores knew she wasn t in any shape to face Ed. How in the world could she act normal again?
In the refuge of the shower, Dolores let those numbers dance in her head. She smiled as the water ran down her face. Freedom! She d quit her stinking job and finally get out of Hillsdale. See the Grand Canyon, Fiji, Paris, Vienna. She d spend time with her sister in Rio. Hook up with her old friend Carolyn in Palm Beach. Maybe meet a man who knew how to have a good time. Of course, first she would have to get Ed out of the picture.
The Shop and Save! Dolores hadn t even thought about where she d gotten the ticket. For years she bought in Ashland, or at the Mobil Station, or over in Southfield, playing whatever numbers popped into her head. Now her head felt like it would burst. She took a deep breath.
That night Dolores waited for her husband to fall asleep before slipping into bed. She had, again, rechecked the numbers on her ticket, this time placing it in a small, white envelope and back inside the book. Her body felt relaxed after a glass of wine. While Ed snored, Dolores plotted. She wasn t about the share her win fall with him. Ed made a decent income and had a good retirement fund. Now she would not have to depend on him anymore. For years Dolores felt deprived of affection and the pursuit of her dreams. battery operated doorbell She thought of all the years she devoted to raising their three sons, who turned out spoiled rotten anyway. She d given up a college degree battery operated doorbell and travel dreams to do what she thought she was supposed to do. What had happed to that young woman who wanted to climb mountains and learn five languages?
Dolores thought of the bags of junk Ed had brought home that afternoon from the flea markets. battery operated doorbell More rare books that would prove to be worth little. battery operated doorbell Dolores had always lived by the principle of one new thing in, one old thing out. She had begged her husband to stop going to estate battery operated doorbell sales. Once, Dolores hired a Feng Shui consultant, hoping he would inspire Ed to get rid of the suffocating collection of junk that had inv
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