Lunar Numbers

The day had been a blur of faces, voices, and numbers. The Lunar Draw frenzy had reached its peak, and I was at the epicenter, manning the cashier as customer after customer filed in, each clutching their hopes in the form of eight digits.

As I handed over yet another ticket, I couldn't help but reflect on the origins of this colossal lottery. Established in 1953 by a consortium of America's largest corporations, the Lunar Draw was conceived as a means to stimulate the post-war economy and provide a sense of unity through shared dreams of fortune.

As I handed over yet another ticket, I caught myself wondering, how the hell did this whole thing even get started?

The Lunar Draw's been around for 80 years now. Started back in 1953, if I remember right. Some of the biggest American companies at the time, banks, oil giants, tech firms, all the usual suspects teamed up and created this thing called the National Prosperity Initiative or (NPI) for short.

Their pitch was that it would help boost the economy after the war, get people spending again, give the country a little hope, and one it desperately needed at the time. But let's be real, half of it was probably just a way to keep people distracted and pouring money into something that felt like a shot at freedom. And yeah, maybe it worked. I mean, it's eighty bucks a ticket, and people still line up like it's Black Friday.

And somehow, it blew up.

So much so, it went global.

Now it's not just an American thing anymore, it has become something that was widespread everywhere about fifty years back. And every ten years, folks from all over the world try their luck. Eight numbers, each from 1 to 999. For that reason, it was insanely hard to win.

Like, astronomically hard. 

I think the last time anyone actually won was three decades ago. And every time no one wins, that jackpot just keeps rolling over to the next prize amount.

Now the lunar draw is sitting at $900 billion.

'Truly an insane amount, I mean in a way I understand but the odds are so high that anyone that wins it would become a literal epicenter in the world of the wealthy. But still spending 80$ on a damn ticket is beyond me.'

Theodore said to himself as he swipe the customer card, and gave her a random ticket. Soon after the last customer for the day came in.

At this point it was 7:38 P.M. in the night.

"Good evening."

She said to me.

Her voice calm and composed.

"I'd like to purchase a Lunar Draw ticket with specific numbers, please."

"Of course."

I replied, pulling up the terminal.

"What numbers would you like?"

I asked, and right after she handed me a neatly folded piece of paper. I unfolded it to reveal a list

New Moon: 103

Waxing Crescent: 007

First Quarter: 392

Waxing Gibbous: 214

Full Moon: 888

Waning Gibbous: 001

Last Quarter: 600

Waning Crescent: 059

"Got it."

I said, entering the numbers into the system.

"That'll be $80."

Right after she handed me a crisp bill, and I printed out her ticket. As she took it, she offered me a small smile before leaving.

With the last customer gone, I leaned against the counter, rubbing my temples. My coworkers, having finished their tasks, gathered near the break area, chatting animatedly.

"If I won that $900 billion, I'd buy an island and live like a king."

Said Trevor as the the girls sat in a circle.

"Mmm, if you do win, you better not forget us little people. I expect one of those over-the-top celebrity weddings like, Beyonncé-level. I want doves, fireworks, and a champagne fountain taller than me. Dont play cheap just cause you struck it rich ya know."

Marcy said to Trevor who was her boyfriend.

"Ohhh you better invite me if that is the case."

Jessica said to Marcy.

Miguel on the other hand being smarter than the initial group step in while saying.

"Man you all are only thinking about the immediate pleasures, but I am leaning more towards a permanent stance, making enough money just till the day I die, and for my family even after I die. What all rich people strive for is generational wealth, legacy. So if I became a billionaire...I'd invest it and live off the interest."

Said Miguel to which Trevor called out saying.

"Investment is nice and all, but bro we are still young, nothing wrong in enjoying some of that money first before you get all serious with it."

"...That is true but you can't enjoy life to the fullest in a permanent stance if you spend all of it on foolishness."

"Man your a bore, that's why your still a virgin."

Miguel face went beet red, when Trevor said those words, as she tried to refute.

And girls laugh at Miguel.

"I...I'm not a virgin!"

"That's something a virgin would say virgin."

"No I-I...

"Kyhahaha... Man your twenty and you never even had a girlfriend in your life. Now that is truly something hilarious."

"..."

"I mean if he won the lottery, micro, small, big, and daddy size would not matter his bag passively speaks for him and any girl would love to ride a man with eleven zero's behind his name. I know for a fact I would make it my job to have 4 kids with a man like that."

Jessica bluntly said, as she slide through her phone.

And the group went on with their billionaire dream. But the odds no matter than man was heavily against them. They would need more than good luck to come out as the winner.

Meanwhile I glanced at the clock. It was time to wrap up, as the day was coming to an end. So I turned to Talia, who was wiping down the coffee station.

"I'm heading to the back to count the register, can you log out for me?"

I asked Talia who look back at me taking out earphones from her ears as she said.

"Yeah dude... Just let me finish up here."

"Thanks alot."

With that, I took the cashier pan at the back.

Counting what was made today in the register.

It wasn't long before I started stacking bills neatly and recording the totals. Once done, I placed the money into the safe and logged the last of the earnings I'm the log book.

"Mmmm... Finally."

With my day's work done, I finally left the back. As I exited the office, but on my way out I overheard a conversation near the front.

"Come on, Talia."

Said Trevor.

"How about dinner sometime? I am sure I am better company than the creep."

But Talia, being ever not so patient, merley side at the annoyance before her, as she said with a flat and uninterested look on her face.

"I already told you, Trevor."

Talia replied, her tone firm.

"I have a boyfriend... And besides, don't you have Marcy?"

"... This isn't about Marcy, cutie... I just want to get to know you better."

"You're not even giving me a chance here."

He argued.

"No means no, Christ, are you deaf, or so stupid you can't take a literal hint to the face."

She said, turning away while rolling her eyes.

Seeing this, I merely turned my head, this was of no interest to me whatsoever.

I decided it was best not to intervene. Talia could handle herself, and I was too exhausted to deal with Trevor's antics. So with that, I grabbed my work jacket and slipped out the back door, the cool night air a welcome relief.

As I walked home, I pulled out my phone and sent Talia a quick text.

[I already left, have a good night!]

I didn't wait for a reply. The day had been long, and tomorrow promised to be even longer as it was the last day to buy tickets for the Lunar Draw.

But that aside, as I continue to walk, the cold night air hits harder once I step out of the store's back door, my breath fogging slightly as I make my way to the bus stop. The streetlights flickered like they were just as tired as I was as I passed along the streets, and the usual city buzz felt distant.

It wasn't long before I reached the stop just in time for the 8:30 p.m. bus. It pulled up with a loud hiss, headlights cutting through the dark. I climbed aboard, slumped into a seat near the back, and let the gentle hum of the road lull me into a daze. Just five minutes, and I was at my stop near my apartment.

The moment my boots hit the cracked pavement near my apartment, the day caught up with me like a brick wall. My bones ached, my back screamed from standing the whole day serving the customers, and the only thing I wanted was the cheap comfort of my bed.

I trudged up the stairs, past the flickering hallway light on the third floor, nearly at my unit when I heard it, a sharp, impatient knocking echoing down the corridor. It was coming from the direction of my room.

Then I saw her.

Denica Gomez.

Smoke coiled and swirl lazily from the cigarette hanging between her crimson-painted lips, and she leaned against the wall with all the grace of someone who thought the whole world owed her something, in layman terms she was self centered bitch, as she is miserable, and unlikable.

But she was voluptuous, to say the least, her hips filled out her tight pencil skirt, and her chest was doing some kind of gravity-defying act beneath her low-cut blouse. But whatever natural beauty she had was drowned under layers of attitude and superiority she thinks she has over others.

"There you are!"

She shouted, voice hoarse but sharp.

I sighed, already knowing where this was going.

"Evening, Denica."

She stepped off the wall, her heels clicking sharply against the tile as she came toward me, each step loud as if she was trying to make a scene.

"Evening? Oh no, don't try sweet-talking me now, Romeo. I came up here for rent. Last month's, and this one too."

She took a long drag, blowing smoke upward.

"And I'm not leaving until I hear something other than I don't have it."

I blinked hard, forcing my voice to stay level.

"I get paid tomorrow, Denica. First thing in the morning. You'll have it."

"That's what you said last week, Theo. And the week before that."

She snapped.

"I'm running out of patience. I've got bills too, you know. You think I run this building off vibes and charity?"

"I know Denica same here, I have my own bills to pay. Hell I always pay on time but ever since you doubled the rent. It's hard to keep up, I have to save before I can give you, tommarow I will have it I promise."

"Uh-huh. And I said I wanted it tonight."

We stared at each other, a heavy silence sitting between us like a third party. I was too tired to keep arguing, and she clearly had nothing better to do with her night than play landlord-police.

And then, as if a pardon from god.

Her phone rang ot of nowhere.

Of course, she placed a hand to my face, as she pulled her phone to her ears after looking at who was calling her.

"Hello."

She said.

"I am listening."

And after a minute on the phone.

Her entire face shifted, annoyance turning to pure, exhausted dread. She replied with a groan.

"SHE DID WHAT?!...

She said that her English was disappearing and her anger was rising as she started to continue the conversation in Spanish.

As her voice practically echoed off the hallway walls.

"¡No mames!... ¿Me estás chingando? ¿Otra vez con esa pendejada?!"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT HER BELIEFS, RICKY!!"

"¡Dile a esa cabrona que si toca una vela más, le voy a arrancar las greñas! ¡Estoy harta de sus estupideces, Ricky!"

I just stood there blinking, not daring to say a word.

She turned halfway toward me, still on the call.

"Tell that whore she is paying for the damage's."

With that, she hung up the call and looked my direction, with that same fire in her eyes, she then pointed a red-painted nail at my face and said.

"Tomorrow evening, Theodore. I'm not playin... I want my goddamn money."

Then, as if nothing had happened, she casually turned on her heel, taking two steps before glancing back over her shoulder with a flip of her hair.

"Oh...and almost forgot. Mail came for you this afternoon... Check your damn box."

Then she disappeared down the hall, still muttering Spanish curses under her breath.

I stood there, both eyebrows raised, wondering what kind of chaos that woman deals with in her free time. Still... her words echoed in his head.

"Mail ha?! But I don't remember ordering anything, though."