His wrench knocked against the elbow joint every few seconds.

“Hand me the small wrench, Patty.”

I handed it down without looking away from the page.

The state lottery column sat between the grocery ads and the church notices.

The headline read: One Ticket Unclaimed in Oakhaven.

Below it were the six numbers.

4, 12, 19, 33, 46, 52.

My thumb found my index finger and began to rub.