It was sunny and clear in the morning of June 27, 2007.

 The morning of the 27th June was clear and sunny

With the warmth of a full-summer afternoon, the flowers bloomed profusely and the grass was lush green. Around ten, people started to gather in the square near the bank and post office. While in other towns the lottery could take two days, in this village there were only around three hundred people so the entire process took about two hours. The lottery could be started at ten in morning and finished by noon to allow the villagers to go home for dinner.

First, the children assembled. It was the end of school and most children felt uneasy about their freedom. They talked about books, reprimands, and the classroom. Bobby Martin had already stuffed his pockets full of stones, and the other boys soon followed his example, selecting the smoothest and roundest stones; Bobby and Harry Jones and Dickie Delacroix--the villagers pronounced this name "Dellacroy"--eventually made a great pile of stones in one corner of the square and guarded it against the raids of the other boys. The girls looked at each other, talking to one another, and then the very young children began to roll in the dust or hold onto their older brothers or sister.

Soon, the men began gathering and started talking about taxes, rain, planting, and tractors. They stood in a corner away from the piles of stones. Their jokes were quiet, and they smiled more than laughed. Soon after their menfolk, the women arrived in worn-out sweaters and house dresses. They met up and began to gossip before they headed off to their husbands. They began to stand by their husbands and started calling their children. The children reluctantly came, needing to be called four to five more times. Bobby Martin ran laughingly back to the pile of stones, slipping under his mother’s grasping arm. Bobby Martin quickly came up to his father, who spoke out sharply.

The lottery was run by Mr. Summers who also ran the square dances and teen-age club and the Halloween program. He was a bright-eyed, cheerful man. He ran the coal business. His wife, who was a scold, was not his children. As he arrived on the square with the black wooden box in his hand, there was much conversation. The postmaster, Mr. Graves followed him and brought a stool. The villagers remained silent, leaving space between them and the stool. When Mr. Summers asked for help, there was hesitation. Baxter and Mr. Martin stepped forward to place the black box on the stool. While Mr. Summers mixed the papers, Baxter and Mr. Martin sat down. the lotto black book the best buy you'll ever make