I’m not a fan of the lottery. I’ve never even bought a ticket. But writing flash fiction with this prompt was fun.
Prompt: What do you mean you lost the lottery ticket.
Grandpa sat in his recliner watching the announcer on tv pull the first numbered ping pong ball out of a wire cage. Grandma stood behind him, fingers crossed.
Grandpa leaned forward. “We’re off to a good start,” he said.
“Oh, Leeland,” Grandma said. “Do you think?”
“We won!” Grandpa shouted. “I knew our wedding date was lucky!”
Grandma went to her purse and began rummaging through it. “It’s not here!” she wailed.
“What do you mean, you lost the lottery ticket?”
“Do you still love me?” she asked.
He nodded. “Always and forever.”
“Hallelujah! Here it is!”
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