He was at rock bottom, and I couldn't be, well not happy, but at least relieved. Because after years of watching him ruin his life on cards, horses, football, you name it, if you could gamble on it, he was sure he had it worked out, and would win big any day now.
But now, finally, he was out of money, and maybe, just maybe, ready to begin the climb back up.
Then came the phone call. Biggest jackpot in the history of the draw, all his, his alone.
I mean, I should be happy for him, shouldn't I? Really?
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