Mouth agape the feeble old man scratched for his very life. "Quickly.. quickly", he thought. "I don't have much time." Claude could not remember how long he had been buried in this hole. "I think just one more to get through " ... "If this is not it, tomorrow I will be dead." Claude , with his old, weathered, bleeding nails, started to scratch slowly as not to disrupt the outcome of his mortal fight. "Left side first.", he thought. "Then the right." The old mans heart began to race! The adrenaline poured through his tired veins. "Is this it?"As he scraped up the middle he let out a small prayer. "Lord let this be my doorway to freedom."
Alas Claude rubbed off the middle section of the lotto ticket. With no fanfare or celebration Claude's last dollar was spent, and tomorrow "they" would come and he would breath his last breath.