The Lottery

The rich aroma of brewing coffee infuses the air and forces me out of my daydreams and into the kitchen. I pour myself a cup of the hot liquid, add a splash of cream, and watch it swirl into a delectable mélange of steaming wakefulness.

Earlier this morning I scrambled two eggs into a fluffy and buttery concoction, then added green onions and a sprinkle of cheese. While I stirred, inhaling the steamy dish, my toaster was busy browning two slices of wholegrain imbued, rye bread. When the eggs were done I ladled the concoction onto our plates then spread a thin layer of creamy butter across the hot surface of the crispy dough. I licked a shiny patch from my fingers before cutting an orange into slices. We laughed and smiled as we ate our breakfast.

As most others in my world I have often fantasized about winning the lottery. How much easier life would be. What I’ve come to realize over the years is that I’ve already won it. Out of the trillions of sperm and eggs that have ever existed on the planet, I was lucky enough just to have been born.

But even luckier, I am here, in the land of plenty.

Birds twitter in the trees, loons call mournfully on the waters, the air smells of green growing things, and the heat of the sun is quenched by cool, clean water from the twist of a handle. When I need groceries I jump into my car and drive to the store. I am not arrested because I am an unaccompanied female. No one wants to throw acid into my face because it isn’t covered. No one looks twice at my shorts and ratty T-shirt. No one cares what I wear. I don’t worry about being harassed, stoned, raped, or murdered because someone thinks that their make-believe deity gives them that right. In fact, people would shake their heads in wonder if I could not read or write at all. They certainly wouldn’t try to burn down a building because they know that females are being given an education there.

I crush the leaves of a mint plant in my fingers and inhale deep the tangy odour of its refreshing scent. My spirit is revitalized. The drizzle of rain falls on my head and small rivulets of water run down my face. I am in the moment. I watch a little girl and a little boy lost in play. Carousing like puppies. I am in love. My fingers feel the warm coarseness of a sunbaked boulder as I sit and gaze at the beauty of a sunset. I am one with the universe.

Ice cubes clinking gently as he walks, my husband brings me a glass, its surface frosty with condensation. I stir the potion with my finger watching the bubbles fizz at the surface. We lean against each other as we sip our drinks in the gentle summer evening. A shooting star rushes by overhead. We both make wishes, though they have already been granted.

Image Credit

“Boy and Girl Playing” by John Severns. Creative Commons Flickr. Some rights reserved.

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