There is a distinction between what I am and what I see a ‘writer’ being. The writer shines within the candelabra they’ve collected, turning wishes into weapons, harnessing a godlight saber which cuts the line between hobby and career.  

I start developing plans, schemes, routes to attach my craft to a profit mechanism. It takes me a couple of days to solidify a plan enough to where I can confidently present it to Musette. Within the incubation period, she approaches me with a request of her own. She wants to play another PowerBall ticket.

I’ve been thinking about these numbers a lot, she says. I just need four dollars.

I tell her that this is unhealthy.

It’s an addiction, I tell her. I know that it’s a big prize, but one more ticket isn’t going to do anything. We’ve already spent twenty dollars on this.

One more ticket does do something, she says. It increases our chances.

I know that what she is saying is true, but that’s not why I give her the cash. She has put a lot of thought into these numbers. I see them saved in her Google Keep. That’s why I give it to her.

She goes into the convenience store. I stay outside with the dog. There is a big smile on her face when she comes out. She tells me that she’ll make it up to me.

I tell her that if she wins, she can take me out to dinner.

And if you don’t win, I say. At least we tried.


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