Quarter billion

You couldn’t tell by looking at her, not really. Sure, she had a busted lip to go with a fading black eye but that didn’t stop the spring in her step, a passing stranger would have thought that perhaps, she fell at home, or was knocked over by the monstrous mastiff she was coaxing onto its lead. 24 years old, slightly frizzy auburn hair catching in the morning sun, with the soft complexion of sweet caramel. 5,6 wrapped with overalls and blue eyes covered by shades, she would have looked peculiar in any other setting.

As it was, she strolled leisurely from the porch to her dusty blue pick up, unlatched the tray and Fluffy jumped in, the impact making the tray sway, with a shower of dust and rust raining from the hinges. Fluffy looks back with gold rimmed eyes from silver fur, releases a snorting sneeze, and blows a fine mist of dog goobies  onto Claire’s neck. Reaching up with a look between a disgust and acceptance, she let’s out a chuckle along with a “You big, disgustingly beautiful beast” and scratches the floppy ears of a bowling ball head.

Latching the tray and jumping into the cab she puts the key to ignition and rumbles an easy pace down the drive, dust slowly rising in her wake to be pushed back down by scattered breeze and gravity. With Fluffy in the back on wonky legs, trying to get a hold on the shifting ground beneath his feet, he decides to lie down until smoother terrain grants him access to the sights and smells of the world around him.

The ride to town is smooth as Claire makes her way to Mr Denning’s Furniture Hutch, having taken care of Fluffy while Mr Denning was delivering an expensive and hand crafted oak dining suit to a valued client. One week with Fluffy didn’t seem that long, in fact when she got the call from Mr D to come by the office she felt a little torn inside. But nevertheless, she bundled up the slobbering brute and took him back to whence he came.

Arriving at the office, Claire is greeted at the door by Mr D, who looks like he hasn’t slept in the last three days, wringing his fingers and tugging at his tie. Flustered wasn’t the word, but it was close. There was something going in here, something that has Mr D worked up enough to be sweating out a storm. Tentatively she asks what’s going on, she isn’t prepared for what she hears.

“While I was away, I bought a lotto ticket. You never know right? Well, I bought my ticket on my first day down there and forgot to check it until I left.” He swallows hard and continues his tale. “At first when the machine went off, I,thought I had won something like $12. When I looked at the screen, do you know how many zeros is in half a billion? Fucking heaps” -Mr D flushes at this and apologises, Claire gives a small, nervous chuckle and let’s him know that it was an appropriate time for such language. Laughing at this quip, Mr D perks up somewhat and keeps on, “I didn’t believe it, I still don’t. But its true and I’m selling up. Where I’m going I can’t take Fluffy with me, would you be kind enough to take him? I don’t want to give him to a stranger but if its an inconvenience then I suppose I’ll have to” Claire is shocked. Stunned. At a loss for words. She thought she couldn’t be more shocked until he said, “I’ve opened an account for you, there’s enough in there to take care of Fluffy and a little more should medical expenses arise, but this”-he passes her a folded sheet of paper, “is the information you need to access the account.” Claire assures Mr D that Fluffy will be well taken care of, and at this Mr D chips in “like you wouldn’t believe” with a small smile.

Waking up the next day to another gloriously sunny morning, Claire makes her way into town to check out what Mr D had left behind for her, for Fluffy. The teller takes her information, checks her ID and requests her password, once satisfied Claire is who she says she is, she turns the screen towards the Soon to be stunned woman in the bank. Claire looks, she doesn’t believe it, she, she, no, no way anyone has ever done something like this, the first digit is a 2. The next digit is a 5. Followed by 8 zeros. Even before she processed the amount, she felt the world spin and her vision went black, laughing as she collapsed into the arms of the security guard and quickly passing out.

Posted from somewhere amongst the tangled interwebs….


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