Marie stretched on the couch. The cozy living room was neat, clean, and best of all, quiet. The kids were out playing until dinnertime, and Richard would be home soon. Marie let herself slip into serene bliss as she waited. In her hand a tall, thin-stemmed glass of clear liquid sparkled in the fading sunlight that filtered through the curtains that billowed at the window in the cool evening breeze.

A smile tipped the outer edges of Marie's lips. Ellen had been so excited that morning she'd nearly collapsed in the kitchen. Not before making sure she'd asked for a generous loan however. Marie's lips broke into a wide, toothy grin, so much for the grand notion of liberal poverty. Not even Ellen could deny the thrilling implications of the innocent little piece of paper that bore the winning lottery numbers emblazoned on its front.''

Her eyes traveled to the center of the coffee table. There at the very middle sat the golden egg, waiting as if it were a royal decree, a parliamentary declaration… in a way it was. It was a proclamation of freedom. Life with money had to be easier than life spent squeezing every penny from a dollar.

Marie glanced around the room. Okay, so they'd never been exactly in the throws of abstract poverty. So they'd always had plenty of food, clothes, and a roof over their head. From now on, they'd never have to worry about paying a stupid electric bill that was for sure.''