Generic Cheerios

The Writer's Cramp - 8-20-25 - 877 words

“I just spent my last buck, Ned. Got a ticket in the big MEGA jackpot.”

Ned grabbed Wayne by the collar. “Where’d you get that buck? You know you owe me about ten.”

“I’ll pay you back. Chill, bud.” Wayne pushed Ned away. “I’m going to win big.”

“Yeah right. You just wasted that buck, stupid.” Ned stomped off.

Wayne yelled at Ned’s retreating figure. “You’ll see! I’ll win that prize!”

Wayne wandered the long way home. Past homes he wished he lived in. Past apartment after apartment where he didn’t have enough money for rent. Then finally he reached the trailer court and his single-wide.

Wayne pushed open the front door. He didn’t bother to lock it, he had nothing anyone wanted. He went to the kitchen and opened the cupboard. A single box of cereal sat alone. Generic Cheerios. Supper.

He grabbed a bowl and spoon and opened the box. All that fell out when he poured were crumbs. “Huh,” he thought. “I could swear there was more.” The single crumbs brushed past his spoon. The whisper of the crumbs, almost like atoms colliding. “Quantum physics,” he whispered. He shook the box again and again poured. Out fell a single little O.

“Well, Cheerio! Just like saying goodbye to a friend in England!”

Wayne inhaled the crumbs, munched on the O.

“Ah… What wonderful food you serve in this restaurant! I shall give you a marvelous tip!”

Wayne went to bed feeling quite satisfied, from spending his last dollar and eating the last Cheerio and feeling sure of winning the jackpot. He dreamt of how to spend all the money.


The next day Wayne wandered again past the apartments he longed to live in, then the homes he could never afford to the store where he’d bought the jackpot ticket.

“I wondered if you had the winning numbers from last night’s jackpot drawing,” he asked the clerk.

She punched some numbers on the computer and gave him a piece of paper. “Just one winner. And it’s in this town.”

“No kidding.” Wayne compared his jackpot ticket to the computer slip. Again he said, “No kidding.”

The clerk asked, “So, any luck?”

“Well, what does it mean if I match all the numbers?”

“You numbskull! That means you win! All that money - 5 billion dollars. Billion with a B! Oh my, I have to call someone. Don’t go anywhere. Stay right here…” And off she scurried to the phone.

Wayne stood glued to the spot. The only thought he had was that he could now repay Ned, he could now buy a new box of real Cheerios and perhaps now move to an apartment. And lock his door. Because now perhaps he could get a couch. And perhaps a chair. And what about a TV? And another bowl and spoon. And another cup and another glass. Those would be nice…

“Hey, mister, someone is coming from the jackpot office to talk to you! What’s your name?”

“Wayne. Wayne Smith.”

“Okay, Wayne Smith. Stay right here. And the paper and the TV people and the store manager. Everyone is coming. Stay right here!”

Wayne stood in the spot and didn’t move. He wondered how long it took to get five billion dollars. Would they give it to him all at once? Would the bank give him free checking now? Could he have about ten dollars of those billions to buy some Cheerios and milk and bananas? Because he hadn’t had breakfast yet and he WAS kind of hungry.

Suddenly the store was all abuzz with cameras and people and reporters. Wayne tried to answer all the questions the best he could. Then the state people came with contracts and papers to read and sign.

“Okay, Mr. Smith, this is the legal document signing the amount of five billion dollars over to you. Do you have anyone you’d like to mention as next of kin?”

“Well, no, not really. I’m all alone. No family or anything.”

“Okay, well, that’s fine. You can always change it later if you desire. I will also need your mailing address. And need to see some kind of identification.”

“Well, I don’t have a driver’s license. I don’t own a car. I have a voter card, and a library card.”

“Do you have anything with your name on it, like a utility bill, rent receipt, something like that?”

Wayne took out his tattered wallet. He spread out the contents. The state man pondered over the papers and thought a few moments.

“I have to tell you, Mr. Smith, this is very unusual for a man your age to not have an ID, but perhaps the voter id will work. I’ll have to check with the higher ups.”

“Does this mean I don’t get the money?” Wayne could see his breakfast saying Cheerio to him.

“Oh no, no. It just means a delay is all. We need to check the legalities and all. Just a few days.”

The state man gave Wayne a small smile. “We’ll be in touch.”

Wayne sighed then turned and walked out of the store. He walked past the homes he would never own, past the apartments he would never rent and on to the single-wide trailer he lived in.


W/C 877