The little black book

It was Sunday in Townsville, in Far North Queensland... They say its beautiful here one day and perfect the next. The heat and combined humidity in February and March can be murder. People tend to spend a lot of time in aircon malls or at our waterfront precinct referred to as the strand. Spanning 2.2 km's of waterfront it is dotted with bbq areas and benches and picnic tables. Some of the eating areas are surrounded by gardens and this is where I first saw the little black book hiding under a bush....

I left it alone at first. It wasn't mine, was it? So I turned away and tried to stop thinking about it. After about 30 mins I got up and left, leaving the book right where it was. It wasn't mine, was it, I got in my car and drove off? Finders keepers and all that doesn't really count when you can be charged with stealing by finding... I drove on, heading back to my tiny one-bedroom apartment. The little black book was right where I had left it... yeah you know I went straight back for it. Yes, I know curiosity killed the cat but I didn't open it straight away, my intent was to take it to the police to hand it in as lost property... Good intents are a wonderful thing... But the best-laid plans of mice and man etc...

Anyway, I made my way home again. My good intentions in place. When I got inside my flat I threw the book on the desk, sat down and stared at the book. There was a sense of familiarity with this book. I just couldn't pin the feeling.

Pretty soon that little voice in my head started getting loud, “take a look. Go on, just a peek”. Without being conscious of having picked it up I found it in my hand and before I knew what was happening I was flicking through the pages. It was just a blank book, not even lined pages so I tossed it back on the desk thinking “OK I scored myself a notebook”. I thought nothing more of it for the rest of that day.

I woke up Monday and headed for the coffee, coffee the first thing is a must. Took my coffee to the desk and sat at the computer. And there was the book again. I picked it up again and opened it knowing what I was going to find, blank pages to stare at and wonder,it was pure curiosity. I opened it to the first page and promptly dropped the book in shock. In crisp clean print, there were some numbers printed right there that were not there the day before.

20210215 010512193235

All I could do was stare at the numbers in shock. They were not there the previous day. My head spun. What could this mean? What could these numbers be? I stared at them in utter disbelief. I slowly closed the book and placed it on the desk again, Many times throughout the day I picked it up and opened it and yep, the numbers were still there. I couldn't stop thinking about these numbers all of that hot humid day.... I mean seriously this kinda thing didnt happen, did it?

Tuesday rolled around, I was plagued by dreams all night, all involving this strange little black book.. I got out of bed and headed for the kitchen, detoured to the desk and opened the book and there were the numbers. Still there crisp and steaming, like they were still hot off the press. I slowly put the book down and made my morning coffee and downed it like it was iced got dressed and headed out the door. I had a coffee date this morning with an old friend I didn't want to miss.

The catch-up with 'Chelle was great hadn't seen her in a couple of years. We got all caught up and as I stood to give her a hug and leave I glanced ssideways and there was a man reading a paper and on the back page were some familiar numbers. 1 5 12 19 32 35. Why were these numbers so familiar? I couldn't place them.

All the way home I couldn't get the back page of that newspaper out of my head. Why were those numbers so familiar? On getting home I flopped into my desk chair ready to write a new poem, did I mention I write lots of poetry? Not sure how good the poems are but I love writing them. Without thinking about it I reached over and picked up the stupid book again opened it and it dawned on me why the numbers on the back page of the newspaper were familiar. 010512193235. They were the second part of the numbers in the book and the first were the date of the entry 2021 02 15, 1 5 12 19 32 35. The numbers on the back page of the paper were last night's lotto numbers. With a million-dollar prize. NO WAY!

I flipped the page and there were another set of numbers. 20210216 02071527293245. I sat there staring at it. Was it really possible? Or was this some kind of cruel joke? Still hesitant I turned to my computer, opened the web browser and typed in the lotto site. Logged into my account got the draw up for that day and typed in the numbers. $50 million prize draw tonight, wow, if only. I completed the entry even though I was still plagued by doubts closed the web browser, opened the word processor and sat there staring at the blank page for what turned out to be hours while I was lost in thought, pondering the possibilities. I mean how many people could $50 million dollars end up helping.

I went to bed early that night not really believing that what was happening was real. I had lost all hope a long time ago that anything could ever get better for me in any way at all.

Plagued by weird dreams, I tossed and turned all night dozing only fitfully. When I awoke for the last time at 8am it was to my phone ringing. Of course you think you know how this story ends. Yes, I had won a 50 million dollar jackpot in the lotto. I sat on the edge of my bed with tears of thanks and joy streaming from my eyes and down my face. Thanking whatever powers had left this book for me to find.

When I, at last, opened the book later that day the numbers were gone. In their place were the words

PASS IT ON...

Late that night I took the book to the place I had found it and placed it back in the same spot, with a whipsered thankyou on my lips...