Dear Or,

I'm writing to you to see if you're better.  How are you, love?

Not much has changed here since you went away.  Everyone's talking about the lottery.  It's over a billion dollars now.  Your brother stopped by, and he told me your little secret—I told you not to gamble, Orenthal.  I told you not to play roulette.  So now I'm supposed to play your numbers every week just cause you can't get your roulette numbers out of your memory?!  He told me your silly request.  I can't believe you, Or.  Are you serious?  You'll really hang yourself if you find out your numbers come out and you didn't play them? 

After Lil 'Bra explained it, I guess I understand.  It's not really about the gambling but your anxiety and superstitions.  And I'll do it because I don't want to add to your stress in there—I don't want to think about it, Or.  Stay brave and play it smart; we have a life here.  But it's so silly!  That's what you get for always playing the same numbers.  Now it's imprinted in your brain.

We were reading an article that said since the figure is at 1.3 billion, if you divide it by the population of America, everyone would get 4.3 million and that would solve the poverty problem and then some.  But I guess someone messed up on the zeros, and it was more like $4.30.  When we did the numbers, we got $43 and Lil 'Bra said, "Cool, that's a 40 and a half-pint of Popov."

The last time I saw you, you looked too tired.  Tell me what's going on, Orenthal.  I know you have to be a different person in there than you really are and I don't want to push you if I don't know what's happening with you.  I'll be here waiting for you.

Your loving wife,

Alisha