She spent most of her days alone,
Longing for companionship, or company, or even just conversation.
Every evening she shuffled to the corner store, where her numbers
Lay in wait to be played.
Walking down her street as the sun began to set in her house dress,
Most of the neighborhood thought her
A harmless crazy old lady.
Then one hot, hazy Summer night she came running out of her house well after the sun had went down, screaming and waving her arms about.
“I hit! I hit! They called my numbers!” she hysterically yelled.
All too suddenly, she found herself swarmed with wanna-be companions, company, and conversationalist.