Touched by a single selfless act and filled with that newfound sense of all being right with the world, he walked to the corner store to buy a series of lottery tickets. Ten, he thought, would suffice. The numbers would be picked randomly and the odds stacked against him, although today was a day where odds didn't seem to matter much. Possibly a day, he thought, where they even seemed to be for him. And what would he do with his winnings? What sorts of good would he put forth unto the world? Those were the kinds of things that were difficult to grasp, even with his disposition and bolstered happiness. A thing that had been done for him was shifting to a thing he would be doing for himself. And to people like this, such days as these, the good ones, seem few and far between.
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