An old man slings
A black satchel over
His shoulder
In his hands
A fan of Lebanese Lottery tickets
I do not want to play
I do not wish
to gamble
In a language I don’t understand
He sets one ticket
Nevertheless
On my table
Opens all his 10 weathered fingers
To show me the cost
My camera catches
His eye
So I buy a ticket
& shoot
His picture
It’s a deal
He does not smile
I pray my numbers
Hit.
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