Gemotions

The lottery ticket felt like a secret weapon, clutched tightly in her palm. Margaret paced the length of her cramped apartment, heart hammering against her ribs. She was desperate. The rent was due, the fridge was bare, and her bank account was perilously close to zero. She wanted to win, to solve all her problems at once. The thought of all that money, all that freedom, coursed through her like an electric current. She wanted, she *needed*, a change. Her gaze darted from the ticket to her chipped coffee mug.