Lisa: Hopeful Scratcher, Amicable Criminal

Mortality had been Lisa’s curse since birth. She tried not to think about it, but every once in a blue moon she would be reminded that a particular action was frivolous and wasted her few years. Usually this happened while trying to line up three cherries on a scratch-off. Her vocation was that of a maid but her dream was to become a professional scratcher. She would travel from convenience store to convenience store finding fortune with only a quarter in her purse. Cleaning houses was a waste of her talents but she was too afraid to realize her greatness.

She had of course researched the field of professional lottery players and found that it was a wide open market. She was sure that she could stake her claim and become a legend. All it took was a little seed money. That’s why there was a BB gun in her purse with the red tip conveniently removed. She had three thousand dollars back at home. Her goal was five but anytime after four, she’d feel safe.

Her method was simple but her attention to detail was incredible She always covered her face, she never spoke and handed each cashier a different note. She changed her clothes, car, she even changed her gun on a regular basis. The newspapers had failed to catch up to her and if the police suspected anything, they weren’t talking.

The small gas station on Emerson was her last score. It was high traffic and had no bulletproof glass for cocky wage slaves to hide behind. It was easy pickings but amazingly enough never picked. The fruit was tempting enough that it was all Lisa could do not to drool. She knew drooling might give her away. Mouth dry, she walked in to meet her destiny.

She perused the aisles for a moment and settled on a bottle of green. Between vinyl laced fingers she gripped it and tried not to strut to the line. In front of her was a big man with a big hoodie. As he adjusted his waist, she saw a big shiny piece of change in plans. He moved the .45 and began to scream. Something brave and stupid took over Lisa as she put her toy in his back.

“Put the gun on the counter and sit down to the right, next to the door.”

Amazingly, he obliged. The soda was free but Lisa didn’t have the heart to ask for the thousand dollars. The clerk had been through enough. She would just have to make due for another month as a maid.

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