I’m the winning lotto ticket. The purchaser, the person that owns me, is a top-end business man. He stuck me into the ashtray of his Lexus.
He drove for a while, made a few phone calls, smoked a lot and listened to some jazz. His suits looked expensive, he was the jazz type. His wife wasn’t happy with him, maybe because he had lots of other women. He called them all. His wife told him to stay away that night. So together we drove through the city, the sparkling lights dancing off the windscreen. He pulled into some fancy restaurant and was away for a while, when he came back he smelt of onion, wine and cigarettes. A homeless man knocked on my owner’s car window. He was carrying a three-legged rabbit. The man ignored him and drove away.
We spent the next day together. He attended meetings, met some of his women, gave them money, then took his daughter out for lunch. He gave her a lift home and handed her more money. She didn’t say thanks. She just said she’d see him later.
That evening he sat in his car and listened to the news. After that, the result was in and he looked at me, the winning ticket. He said nothing. Didn’t even smile. He just drove.
Then he pulled in and had dinner in that same restaurant, emerging a few hours later. He smelt the same. Only this time he lingered there, parked by the restaurant. He was taking stock of the situation. Thinking about things.
Then the homeless man and his three legged-rabbit knocked again. The businessman fired the engine but didn’t move. The man in the suit stared at the man with none, and slowly rolled down the window of his Lexus.
We’re the same, you and I.
He handed me out the window then. I watched him drive away, towards the city lights.