The Winning Ticket

            This came to me the other day after the announcement that two winning tickets had been sold for the lotto. It had been first reported that one of the tickets had sold in Wisconsin. Later in the day it had been narrowed down to Milwaukee. Instantly, this popped into my head…..short and sweet! (fiction)

The Winning Ticket

            Harold wept as his hand trembled holding the small piece of paper. He couldn’t believe his luck; he was the winner of the second largest jackpot in the lottery history. Of course, his tears were not what you might think. He took the long way home to his wife of forty years.

            As his car sat in the drive on that dark evening, he could see Helen in the kitchen putting the final touches on supper. Helen was a good cook he thought to himself. How would she take the news he pondered, as he continued to watch her? He got out of his car and made his way into the house.

            “Oh, hello sweetie, did you hear?” Helen asked as she handed him a whiskey on the rocks like she did every night. “The winning lotto ticket was sold in Milwaukee. How exciting.”

            “Yes, how exciting.” He said as he placed a small piece of paper on the table.

            “What’s this?” She asked, as she picked it up. She looked it over. “It’s a lotto ticket.”

            “Yes,” said Harold, “the winning lotto ticket.” He said putting his head down; tears started to slide down his cheek.

            “But I don’t understand. When were you in Milwaukee?” She slides into the chair across from Harold.

            Harold and Helen have lived in the same quaint Tudor home for the last thirty years of their marriage in an older neighborhood near the campus in Madison, a good hour and a half west of Milwaukee.

Harold takes a long sip from his whiskey. “Helen, I have something to tell you.”