1 March 2026
Found a £5 National Lottery “£500 Loaded” scratchcard on the ground near Wood Green station (not a winner; apparently the odds are around 1 in 1,400 to win the full £500, meaning you'd have to spend over £7k on scratchcards for a statistical guarantee). Those things are like mini paintings, the topmost layer clawed away to reveal the information hidden underneath. Which is why I picked it up—it's a potent feeling to find and hold such a clear recording of a stranger's touch in your hands. The rhythm of the diagonal scratch marks (this person was probably right-handed) held the urgent speed of them. Spooked me a little, honestly. The palpable charge of hope turning to disappointment. And yet there was something undeniably alive about it. It had been addressed with someone's undivided attention at one point. Going to see if I can make a drawing with one.