“Yes, and thirsty.”
“Come in. Order what you want. I’ll pay.”
Before the man left with his take-away bag, he smiled, touched Paul’s arm and said, “Thank you. Buy a lottery ticket.”
That night Paul watched numbers scroll across his computer screen. His mouth dropped open. Three million dollars. His.
Buy a lottery ticket, the homeless man had said in a gentle, knowing voice.
No, Paul thought. That wasn’t him, but the winning ticket he held said it was.