VBlushd: Breeze with traces of vanilla, Girl with sheer blush.
%vzero4- LightDance.

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YUPS.
Here`s an essay.

He wanted it. He dreamt of it, he hankered after it. It was pure obsession. Swept up by the frenzy, Lee Hock could no longer focus on anything. Like an addict, he would craved for his share of offerings until he get it. Until then, Lee Hock would spend his days, distractedly. Everyday, without fail, he would talk about it. He nurtured his notion until it became the reason for his living. It was his passion.

Whenever reports came by, he would gripe his paper tightly – till his knuckles turned white. Beads of perspiration would trickle down his temples; he could taste the salty tang. Barely. He would be too preoccupied with listening to the report. He never hear anything desirable though, not that it made he gave up. It only spurned him further on.

That fateful day, Lee Hock was clad in his threadbare white singlet and wearing his dentures. He was meeting his friends for coffee. As he walked down the stairs, slowly and cautiously, he would gasp for air and trembled slightly. Soon, the aromatic smell of coffee hit him. It swirled around him, seducing him with their spidery fingers.

His friends greeted him and pulled out a chair for him. As they chatted, the television crackled to life. Lee Hock turned expectantly, his friends grinned their toothless grin. They knew Lee Hock never missed any lottery readings. Lee Hock searched around and fished out a dog-eared paper. He clutched the paper, mumbled a prayer and kept his attention on the screen. His friends ignored him and continued their conversation.

‘.. 24, 13, 09,’ Lee Hock gulped nervously. ‘Please, let the last number be 58!’

‘And 58.’

Lee Hock’s eyes widened. He shouted, he jumped up his seat. He shouted jubilant cries. His friends were taken aback. Lee Hock has won the lottery. Finally!

Suddenly, Lee Hock`s face was distorted by pain. He grabbed his chest, out of breath. Vertigo overcame him, and he lost conscious. Lee Hock was pronounced dead at Singapore General Hospital.

His funeral was a grand affair, thanks to the wealth he acquired shortly before his death. In his see-through coffin, Lee Hock could be seen clutching a dog-eared paper tightly. At the appointed time, a lottery station was set on fire. It burned brilliantly, and in three minutes, was a heap of ashes in the dull gold bucket.

The End.

I haven`t thought of an appropriate title.
Suggest one.

EDIT
Vince suggested a title for my essay.
I love the title.

It`s, The Death of Surprise.
/EDIT

{/10:46 PM}

Signed by Yours Truly.