Writer’s Prompt
Albert Torres stood in the harsh fluorescent glow of the convenience store, the hum of the refrigerator units sounding like tired breath. He reached into his pocket and pulled out everything he owned in the world: one ten-dollar bill, wrinkled and soft from being folded too many times. His fridge at home was empty. His rent was a month overdue. None of it mattered, not tonight.
He’d dreamed he won the lottery.
Albert slapped the bill on the counter. “Give me five two-dollar tickets,” he said, lowering his voice as if luck might be listening. “And make sure one of them’s the winner.”
The clerk looked up. Her name tag read Mary Ramirez. She raised an eyebrow. “Random numbers?”
Albert shrugged. “Why not? The numbers I’ve played every week haven’t done me any favors.”
Mary held the ten-dollars, hesitated. “I don’t play the lottery,” she said. “But I do have lucky numbers. Want to use them on a ticket?”
Albert studied her for a moment—her tired smile, the way she leaned forward as if she needed this conversation as much as he did. He rested his hand against his jaw, thinking, then said, “If I win with your numbers, will you marry me?”
Mary laughed, loud and surprised, the sound echoing off the chip racks. “I accept,” she said. “What’s your name?”
“Albert.”
He didn’t win. None of the tickets even came close. The next morning, the sun rose the same way it always did. Bills still waited. The fridge stayed empty.
But Albert couldn’t stop thinking about Mary Ramirez. About the way she laughed. About how easily she’d said yes.
Later that week, he found himself walking back into the store—not for tickets this time, but for something harder to buy.
Hope doesn’t always come with winning numbers. Sometimes it shows up as a question you weren’t brave enough to ask until you had nothing left to lose.
Writer’s Question
What happens next—and does Albert return for love, luck, or something he didn’t expect?
