Somewhere along the drive from the city to the oceanside, I had died and gone to heaven. Even better, a clerical error occurred and I was sent to the heaven for rich people. Nobody inform God because I wanted to stay here forever.
Opulence. I never understood what the word meant until I stayed at the Monroe’s summer home. It was so elegant and posh that thinking I crossed over to the other side made sense. I’d never seen such luxury during my time on earth; it couldn’t possibly be real.
It was all gorgeous. I wanted to rub my face over every surface, roll around in the decadence. It was the best place to spend the summer that I could ask for. It had everything I needed and several things I didn’t. It was perfect. Practically.
Everyone wants to win the lottery, and I felt like I did, even if this paradise of mine had an expiration date and I had to go back to Earth eventually. Winning the lottery is the dream for millions of poor people like me.
But those who have won will tell you to be careful what you wish for.
I don’t want to complain. My boyfriend said he would take care of everything and he did. Just…
He wasn’t around very much.
Having this palace to myself was a little lonely. But I’m not ungrateful! There’s a TV screen that’s larger than the length of my living room at home. The balcony connected to my room has an amazing view of the stars at night. The best food I’d ever tasted is always fully stocked in the kitchen.
There’s a long, clear-blue, fantastic pool.
And there’s the pool boy.
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