Tessie was just finishing the dishes when she noticed nobody was home. Her husband was not stacking wood, as she'd thought. Perhaps the children were playing next door with the Delacroix boys. As the water ran down the drain, she stood still and enjoyed the silence. When she realized it was the twenty-seventh, she rushed to put on her best clothes for Lottery Day. But when she reached for her Sunday shoes, she paused for a few seconds that turned into a few minutes. Then she put on her walking shoes and headed out the door—not to the square but out of town. She was walking away from the lottery. (Andrew Shields, #111Words, 27 June 2026)