I’m running this in its entirety from Bill Quick’s Daily Pundit. Because it’s so good. I didn’t even ask if I could. He won’t mind. Neither will razorbacker.

No Purchase Required

He stepped out of the soup kitchen, packed as always on bitterly cold nights with the soup watered to the point of absolute clarity, and the wind hit him like a knife blade.

His mother had been right; he never listened. His coach had been right; he never gave his all. His high school guidance councilor had been right; so much potential, so little effort. His ex mother-in-law had been right; he’d never amount to anything. At last able to see himself for what he was, a loser, he turned upwind to head for the mission bed for the night.

The howling wind blew debris into his face, including a small slip of paper. He reached up and dully examined it. A lottery ticket. For tonight’s drawing. He slipped it into his pocket…maybe this time. Maybe this time.

If this were the opening to a novel or short story, would you keep reading? I know I would.

Not bad, razorbacker. Not bad at all.