It started on a whim. I was bored one day. I wanted some fun. The rain was pelting down so I had no real desire to go out. I was a long way from my deadline for the work so I found myself meandering across the Internet. I don’t know what inspired me to play the lottery. I don’t do it very often and in my more lucid moments I think of it as a tax on the aspirations of the poor. But then again, I’m a money tart just like anyone else.

I filled in the numbers on the “lucky dip”. That sounds so tacky and fairground. I paid my money. Electronic money but real money nevertheless and went on my way.

Then I forgot about it.

They next morning I turned the computer on read to work. It’s the same old ritual. E-mail, news and a look at the to do list. I’m organised and methodical like that. I had a quick look down the 50 or so messages that were dropping into my box. One had a subject line that said “Good news about your ticket”.

Oh no. So this is what it feels like. That moment of anticipation. They normally send me messages like “Don’t forget to buy your ticket” which is a way of saying “oh shucks, you’ve lost, better luck next time” or “Make your life a little easier”, as though it was that simple.

But this was the real thing. I felt a shiver down my spine. I wanted to hold on to that delicious moment of torture. But I also had feelings of guilt.

“Give it away? Why?” “Well, what would I do with all that cash?” “Where do I start? You’ll never have to work again” “I want to keep working. What would I do with myself otherwise?” “Never heard of sea, sex and sun?” “What have I done to deserve it?” “Oh, that’s great, you’re getting a conscience now”

I stared stupidly at my screen for quite a while as though I wanted time to stop just there.

£8.10 on the euromillions.

A relief. No need to feel guilty.

Oh well, better luck next time.

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We haven’t spoken in a while. You let me go one evening last summer. The goodbye was a bit long and protracted, mind you. You took your time leaving on account of being more attached to me than you thought.

In the meantime, life’s been quite OK. In fact, it’s been getting a lot better. I need crutches to get around and sometimes when I feel lazy, I get in a wheelchair. Yes, I do miss you and so does your twin brother, but we make the best of things. Well, you have to, don’t you? I don’t know what happened to you and I’m not sure I want to know. I would like to think you’ve been treated well. I don’t suppose it’s much fun for a foot like you without me, the rest of the body

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It started on a whim. I was bored one day. I wanted some fun. The rain was pelting down so I had no real desire to go out. I was a long way from my deadline for the work so I found myself meandering across the Internet. I don’t know what inspired me to play the lottery. I don’t do it very often and in my more lucid moments I think of it as a tax on the aspirations of the poor. But then again, I’m a money tart just like anyone else.

I filled in the numbers on the “lucky dip”. That sounds so tacky and fairground. I paid my money. Electronic money but real money nevertheless and went on my way.

Then I forgot about it.

The next morning I turned the computer on. It’s the same old ritual. E-mail, news and a look at the to do list. I’m organised and methodical like that.

I had a quick look down the 50 or so messages that were dropping into my box. One had a subject line that said “Good news about the lottery”.

Oh no. So this is what it feels like. That moment of anticipation. They normally send me messages like “Don’t forget to buy your ticket” in a somewhat accusatory way or “Make your life a little easier”, as though it was that simple.

But this was the real thing. I felt a shiver down my spine. I wanted to hold on to that delicious moment of torture. But I also had feelings of guilt.

“Give it away? Why?”

“Well, what would I do with all that cash?”

“Where do I start? You’ll never have to work again”

“I want to keep working. What would I do with myself otherwise?”

“Never heard of sea, sex and sun?”

“What have I done to deserve it?”

“Oh, that’s great, you’re getting a conscience now”

I stared stupidly at my screen for quite a while as though I wanted time to stop just there. £8.10 on the euromillions. A relief. No need to feel guilty. Oh well, better luck next time.

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