Fall evenings fall so soon;
the windows closed by noon, shut tight;
the curtains drawn lest light
too weak invades the brightly lit
and cheerful space. Flame flits
in hearth to warm, uplift the heart,
with smell of soup, jam tarts,
fresh bread, all a la carte fireside
dinner. Yet TV guides
demand the day’s world-wide newscast.
A bomb kills over there,
eight soldiers die somewhere, and far
away fancy film stars
rant, silken voices jarred with beeps.
A drug-drugged druggy weeps;
some politicians speak about
corruption. Stamps and shouts
and blood and hurts and pouts invade
the family room. Love fades.
Fall evenings fall. They’re made for guilt.
Mrs Myrtle Capstick, a widow, has struck it lucky. She had a dream with the lottery’s winning numbers. She used those numbers and is now $1,000,000 richer.
“I knew the minute I woke up that these were my lucky numbers, so I wrote them down,” said an overwhelmed Mrs Capstick.
Dr Harry Shinburg, Professor of Mathematics at the University of Myrtlebridge, said the chances of that happening were astronomical. “It’s astronomical enough getting all six numbers in a row, but to get them in a dream is astronomically astronomical”.
Vladimir Staffordshire, secretary of the Sceptics’ Society, said that sadly there was no creature in a parallel universe waving the numbers at Mrs Capstick in a dream. “It’s a fluke,” he said. “That’s all it is. There’s nothing preternatural about it.”
Over three hundred comments have been made on the social media. Many say they’ve had a similar experience, although the prize money has been considerably smaller. Norma Booner said, “Wow! Wow! One million! In a dream! Wow!”
“I’m just over the moon,” said Mrs Capstick. “Just over the moon. I received these numbers in a dream. Call it what you will, it happened. Ironically, the first thing I want to buy with my money is a new bed and mattress. If only my husband was still alive to share the excitement! Who said dreams don’t come true? I’ve never won a penny before. To think, after forty-seven years of taking these same dreamed numbers and it’s at last paid off!”
The famous sports star has a new driveway at his holiday home! I repeat! The famous sports star has a brand new driveway! It’s on the front page of the national newspaper. But that’s not all! No! No! No!
A neighbour has complained. It’s all there on the front page! Complained! She said it was an ugly driveway. She’s trying to sell her house and the next-door famous sports star has ruined her prospect of selling by putting in an ugly driveway.
There’s even more on the front page of the national newspaper! More? More! A film star was seeing buying a pair of sunglasses in a little village to the south. A little village! A pair of sunglasses! A real film star! Why was she in that little village? Is she making a secret movie? Is she having an affair?
But wait! There’s more! A third item on the front page, complete with a coloured photograph, states that the Prime Minister spends ten minutes each morning reading the morning paper! The national morning paper! Our paper! The same paper as me! He does it, he says, to keep up with what’s happening in the world.
Just on that alone, the editor should get a pay rise I reckon.