[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ fullwidth=”on” admin_label=”Interior Hero” module_class=”sfly_interior_hero_1 sfly_marketing” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ background_color=”#000000″ hover_enabled=”0″ saved_tabs=”all” locked=”off” sticky_enabled=”0″][et_pb_fullwidth_header title=”I DIDN’T MEAN TO WIN THE LOTTERY” text_orientation=”center” background_overlay_color=”rgba(18,21,22,0.5)” module_class=”sfly_fullwidth_header” _builder_version=”4.9.4″ title_level=”h4″ title_font=”|700|||||||” title_font_size=”48px” content_font=”||||||||” content_font_size=”18px” subhead_font=”||||||||” background_image=”http:\/\/box2154.temp.domains\/~kamuelak\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/05\/I-didnt-mean-to-win-the-lottery-7-1.jpg” parallax=”on” parallax_method=”on” custom_button_one=”on” button_one_text_color=”#000000″ button_one_bg_color=”#ffffff” button_one_border_color=”#ffffff” button_one_font=”|700|||||||” button_one_use_icon=”off” custom_button_two=”on” button_two_font=”|700|||||||” button_two_use_icon=”off” custom_padding=”60px||50px||false” hover_enabled=”0″ title_font_size_tablet=”36px” title_font_size_phone=”24px” title_font_size_last_edited=”on|desktop” button_one_text_color_hover=”#ffffff” button_two_text_color_hover=”#ffffff” button_one_border_color_hover=”#ffffff” button_two_border_color_hover=”#ffffff” button_one_bg_color_hover=”rgba(255,255,255,0)” button_two_bg_color_hover=”rgba(0,0,0,0)” button_one_text_size__hover_enabled=”off” button_two_text_size__hover_enabled=”off” button_one_text_color__hover_enabled=”on” button_one_text_color__hover=”#ffffff” button_two_text_color__hover_enabled=”on” button_two_text_color__hover=”#ffffff” button_one_border_width__hover_enabled=”off” button_two_border_width__hover_enabled=”off” button_one_border_color__hover_enabled=”on” button_one_border_color__hover=”#ffffff” button_two_border_color__hover_enabled=”on” button_two_border_color__hover=”#ffffff” button_one_border_radius__hover_enabled=”off” button_two_border_radius__hover_enabled=”off” button_one_letter_spacing__hover_enabled=”off” button_two_letter_spacing__hover_enabled=”off” button_one_bg_color__hover_enabled=”on” button_one_bg_color__hover=”rgba(255,255,255,0)” button_two_bg_color__hover_enabled=”on” button_two_bg_color__hover=”rgba(0,0,0,0)” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n
[\/et_pb_fullwidth_header][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default” hover_enabled=”0″ sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n
\nPrologue<\/h1>\n<\/blockquote>\n
(Posted – 5\/20\/2021)
[KamuelaKaneshiro.com<\/a>]<\/h3>\n\n\nHis snoring greeted her return from the bathroom. She contemplated taking more sleeping pills, or anti-depressants, but remembered taking an extra dose maybe an hour ago, and more before then.<\/h3>\n
She stepped around the expensive dresses, designer handbags, and empty champagne bottles littering the hotel room\u2019s floor She hated these things he bought for her affection. He never asked what she wanted because he knew it wasn\u2019t him. Stacked on the nightstand was his medical textbooks plastered with \u201cused\u201d stickers, she had an identical set, but sold them.<\/h3>\n
She slunk into bed beside him. Their winter break was days away, she was familiar with the London to Copenhagen flight, but uncertain about meeting his parents. They started seeing each other weeks ago, and she only attended that bonfire party for sex to forget her beloved.<\/h3>\n
A tear rolled from her eyes. It wasn\u2019t if she was going to cry, it was her routine since her beloved disappeared. The question was how loud would her sobbing be? She didn\u2019t care if he heard her, he\u2019s used to it.<\/h3>\n
She forgot about his snoring as her broken heart asked her mind its nightly questions of where did my beloved go? Why did he leave? If I knew my beloved was the elusive lottery winner, I could\u2019ve told him how money didn\u2019t matter to me. She wished she could go back and tell him. But knew if she did, she\u2019d just want to hold him. She sobbed into her pillow. Her partner heard her weeping, and continued pretending to snore.<\/h3>\n
<\/p>\n
(Posted – 5\/20\/2021)
[KamuelaKaneshiro.com<\/a>]<\/h3>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default”][et_pb_text _builder_version=”4.9.4″ _module_preset=”default” hover_enabled=”0″ sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n
\nChapter 1<\/h1>\n<\/blockquote>\n
(Posted – 5\/20\/2021)
[KamuelaKaneshiro.com<\/a>]<\/h3>\nI didn\u2019t mean to win the lottery I should\u2019ve taken my change instead of that ticket.<\/span><\/em><\/h3>\n
Empty streets amplified my footfalls as I fled my roaring pursers. Turning a corner I sprinted for a car at the intersection.\u00a0<\/span><\/h3>\n
That\u2019ll get me out of here.<\/span><\/em><\/h3>\n
The driver\u2019s slicked back hair prodded his collar as he talked on his smartphone. I pulled him from his car, took the wheel, and threw him a handful of hundred-dollar bills while speeding off. The ex-motorist fumbled his phone while collecting the drifting currency before my pursuers overwhelmed him. The traffic light\u2019s red eye glared as I plunged into the intersection.<\/span><\/h3>\n
Did I run the light?<\/span><\/em><\/h3>\n
An impact threw me against the door. Burnt rubber filled my nostrils, and I was lashed by waves of broken glass. Another collision resumed the flurry which ended in car horns. My door was jammed, so I climbed out the window, and dashed to a parked taxi. Twanging music played as I hopped onto the cab\u2019s backseat.<\/span><\/h3>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry sir, please leave.\u201d The cabbie said with an Indian accent. \u201cMy fare shall return shortly.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
\u201cI\u2019m rich.\u201d I threw money at him. \u201cAirport now.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
The taxi\u2019s tires squealed, bit into the asphalt and launched us into the street. I rolled down my window and threw handfuls of money at my pursuers. The frenzied horde stopped to fight over the currency as we passed the airport welcome sign.\u00a0<\/span><\/h3>\n
He can\u2019t drive me to the gate, I need a private jet.<\/span><\/em><\/h3>\n
On the airfield a blue helicopter started its propellers.<\/span><\/h3>\n
I pointed to the chopper. \u201cGet me there before it takes off, break through the fence.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
Swerving onto the grass our bucking cab burst through the fence and bottomed out against the tarmac. My cabbie regained control as airplanes landed or took off around us. The helicopter lifted a foot off the ground.<\/span><\/h3>\n
I grinded my teeth while clenching the cab partition. \u201cCome on, hurry.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
My cabbie swung us into a power slide that ended beside the helicopter. I tossed money at him and sprung from his smoking jalopy to the copter.<\/span><\/h3>\n
The pilot gaped at me.<\/span><\/h3>\n
I buckled up. \u201cGet me out of here. I\u2019ve got money.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
The pilot nodded and took off. My pursuers funneled through the fence\u2019s taxi made hole onto the runway.<\/span><\/h3>\n
\u201cGood job.\u201d Beside me sat a supermodel wearing a slinky red dress. She kissed me and slipped her hand into my pants pocket. The model grinned, whipping her hand from my pants and sent a stream of hundred-dollar bills gushing from me.<\/span><\/h3>\n
I scurried away trying to contain my money. Grabbed a parachute, jumped from the helicopter while securing the pack, and deploy the chute. The wind changed drifting me towards my jockeying pursuers.<\/span><\/h3>\n
Something hit the back of my head and I woke in a chair at the lottery headquarters.\u00a0<\/span><\/h3>\n
Ugh, damn nightmare.<\/span><\/em><\/h3>\n
Rusted file cabinets lined the office walls, faded cardboard boxes occupied the floor, and the desk before me was covered with folders. I peeled my sweaty shirt from my body.<\/span><\/h3>\n
The news reported this heat killed several people. I never knew the South got so hot.<\/span><\/em><\/h3>\n
Coughing erupted in the reception area outside the door. An overweight man entered holding a Johnnie Walker coffee mug wearing a tweed suit, red tie, and coughed into a beige handkerchief. He placed the mug on his desk, and cleared his throat. \u201cExcuse me, tail end of the flu.\u201d His Southern drawl extended his words. \u201cNothing fer\u2019 a youngin\u2019 like yourself to fear.\u201d He pocketed his kerchief and closed the door.<\/span><\/h3>\n
That\u2019d be my luck. Win the lottery, killed by the flu.<\/span><\/em><\/h3>\n
\u201cI\u2019m Bert Fields.\u201d He smiled easing into his chair behind the desk. \u201cSorry fer\u2019 the windas\u2019 air conditioning\u2019s too cold fer\u2019 me.\u201d He gestured to a fan that oscillated the Southern heat from an open window. \u201cMy secretary gave ya\u2019 some paperwork?\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
I offered him forms dampened by my sweaty fingers. \u201cThey\u2019re filled to the best of my knowledge.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
Bert chuckled as he put on glasses that enhanced his bulbus face. \u201cOh, you\u2019re a Yankee boy. Sure we look the same, till we start talkin\u2019 that\u2019s when we reveal who we are.\u201d He examined my forms, exchanged them for his mug, and leaned back. \u201cI like chatting with our winners. You know, get a feel for um. Ya\u2019 been playing the lotto long?\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
\u201cThis was my first time. The clerk gave me the ticket instead of my change, and I didn\u2019t want to trouble him.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
He studied me from over his mug\u2019s rim. \u201cMay I see the ticket?\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
I produced my winning ticket. It flapped in the fan\u2019s breeze as I handed it to Bert.<\/span><\/h3>\n
Bert held it to the light and whistled low. \u201cYes sir. The world\u2019s largest payout.\u201d His eyes rolled to me. \u201cWon by a twenty-something.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
My cheeks warmed.<\/span><\/h3>\n
Bert smiled and took off his glasses. \u201cYa\u2019 married?\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
\u201cNo, just me and Clyde, my cactus.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
\u201cAny kids running around?\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
\u201cNo. Well, none that I\u2019m aware of.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
Bert laughed. \u201cThat\u2019s a good one. Well, all that\u2019s gonna change. Hell, I wish I had a young daughter to throw at ya\u2019.\u201d His laughing became coughing.<\/span><\/h3>\n
Girls pursuing me, what\u2019s that going to be like?<\/span><\/em><\/h3>\n
Bert sipped his coffee. \u201cMay I ask what ya\u2019 plan on doing with the money?\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
\u201cMaybe buy a car?\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
Bert sighed. \u201cYoungin\u2019. I\u2019ve seen men and women pass through those doors, sit in that chair, and they never heard me. But I know you\u2019ll listen to an ol\u2019 man.\u201d His eyes locked onto me as he leaned over his desk. \u201cMoney changes people, rememba\u2019 money\u2019s only paper.\u201d He crumpled my ticket, threw it in the trash, and pointed at me. \u201cDon\u2019t let it change ya\u2019. Ya\u2019 hear?\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
I blinked. \u201cYes sir, thank you sir.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
Bert pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket. \u201cHere\u2019s the lump sum, minus taxes as ya\u2019 requested. It\u2019s a blank check, whoever signs it gets the money, and their name will become public knowledge, lawyers can help ya\u2019 remain anonymous. My card is included if ya\u2019 have any questions.\u201d He handed me the envelope sealed with a piece of tape.<\/span><\/h3>\n
What do I say? Do I say anything?<\/span><\/em><\/h3>\n
I smiled at Bert. \u201cThank you.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
He returned my smile. \u201cYou\u2019ll do jus\u2019 fine. Now go on, git.\u201d<\/span><\/h3>\n
***<\/span><\/h3>\n
London\u2019s afternoon traffic pounded cobblestone roads as a young woman in a red trench coat, and bag entered a bookstore. The shopkeeper greeted her, she swallowed her grief, and forced a smile.<\/span><\/h3>\n