Fortune cookie Prediction came true

Fortune cookie Prediction came true

It was just a cookie,

cheap with its crackle,

folded like any other,

tossed on the tray

after noodles,

after one of those days

that doesn’t try to be anything.

I split it without thinking,

half fell on the floor,

and the slip inside

barely caught my eye,

a strip of paper,

smudged and smug,

said wealth is on its way.

I snorted.

Didn’t even eat the rest.

Shoved it in my bag

with receipts, wrappers,

bits of my life I never quite throw away.

The next night,

cold tea on the table,

checked the lottery ticket

just to pass time.

and there it was

all of it.

My numbers like gold dust

the numbers,

the match,

the win.

I felt faint.

I stared like a fool

at a screen that lit up

with enough to change everything.

And I remembered

that cookie,

its plain little voice

telling me what I never dared to want.

Suddenly, I could breathe different,

move different,

pay the bills without the dread

that creeps under the door

when no one’s looking.

Suddenly, I could say no

and mean it.

I could say yes

without counting the cost.

I bought my time back.

I bought peace.

And all because

some factory somewhere

wrapped my future in cellophane

and God handed it to me.

It was like that cookie knew.

Don’t tell me magic isn’t real.

I read it,

just the night before

and now look.

I’m £250,000 better off

with tears of happiness galor.