In fact, he had no addictions. Sometimes he would smoke if someone offered him something, because he was well-mannered and didn’t refuse. He only drank sweet wines and if someone offered them to him, because he did not refuse out of politeness. His only silent but great passion was playing the lottery.
He played regularly every week for thirty-seven years. He sent his first coupon as a boy with money obtained from selling bottles. Well, it must be said that he was not particularly lucky in this game. He didn’t win not only a million, but even ten zlotys. And it wasn’t that he didn’t need money, on the contrary, it would certainly come in handy.
And he should take his wedding suit to the cleaners because he doesn’t remember where he poured sweet wine on it (because he didn’t refuse it out of politeness when someone offered it to him), and he could buy shoes for the kids or at least new shoelaces, and if he left it, he could also buy a brooch for his wife. Because there is no. But these were just weekly dreams that burst like a soap bubble on Sunday evening when the lucky numbers were announced.
Yes it was. Until recently. There are dark and bright moments in life, so one Sunday the sun shone straight into his window.
He played constantly because he was constant. Four children, one wife and the same mother-in-law testified to this. And he kept circling the same numbers. He didn’t have to check with the coupon. He had had them in his head for thirty-seven years. Like historical dates learned at school. For example, 1410 – Battle of Grunwald. He just didn’t remember who was fighting and what for.
“And here are the lucky numbers – he heard the announcer’s voice. – Two, seven, nine, fifteen, forty-two, forty-three and an additional thirty-two.” After the extra announcement was made, he felt choking. “Water!” – he only managed to scream and faint. These were his numbers.
– Jadźka! Give me a coupon! – he whispered after waking up.
– I gave it to Adaś to send it. Adaś, give your father a dart!
– I… gave it to Gabrysia… – Adaś stammered.
– I didn’t send it, I gave it to Artur.
It was getting scary. And this is just the beginning.
– Arturrrrr! – the father wheezed. – Where’s the coupon?
Just in case, Arturek hid behind his mother and passed the message from there.
– We… we… we thought you wouldn’t win again, and… and we bought ice cream…
He felt like he was dying. And the last thought was that I was in poverty.
When he opened his eyes, he saw that some people in silver suits were sprinkling scents on him. Then a beautiful yellow shirt with lace was placed over his head, and the rest of his hair was arranged in a halo. He was handed a lit candle and told to join the line. The line was huge.
They all looked the same and were walking in an unknown direction. He felt good. Even very much so. Much better than when he was alive. He was light and had no thirst. He looked around at his companions, looking for friends. He found it. A few politicians, artists, colleagues. Everyone walked smiling, trusting, holding lit candles in their hands. For a moment he found himself next to a neighbor from whom he had once borrowed an electric extension cord and forgot to return it.
He wanted to apologize and promise that he would return it as soon as he could. But the neighbor didn’t seem to recognize him. He just smiled mysteriously and let him go ahead.
They walked along a road covered with a red carpet, surrounded by white clouds, among the scent of roses and maciejka. Suddenly the column wavered and stopped. The directions of the march appeared above them. Like on the highway. Only, instead of the inscriptions Olesno, Marsylia or Zalesie Górne, it was written: Heaven, Purgatory, Hell. He was wondering what to choose when he felt someone push a folder into his hand. He started reading.
“If you have chosen heaven, you will not see a woman, you will not feel anything ugly, you will not sweat, you will not stumble and you will not swear.”
“In purgatory you will be sometimes cold, sometimes hot. Sometimes too little, sometimes too much. Sometimes dry, sometimes wet. Sometimes you will be tired, sometimes you will rest.”
“Hell is a surprise. You won’t learn anything beforehand, you won’t change anything and there will be no going back.”
The crowd heaved. He hesitated. He didn’t know what to decide. He would love to wake up if it was a dream. But he wasn’t.
He only knew one thing. That he will choose the place where there will be a lotto point.
Source: Gazeta
Bruce is a talented author and journalist with a passion for entertainment . He currently works as a writer at the 247 News Agency, where he has established himself as a respected voice in the industry.
