A strange prize for doing well

You've been doing the hard version of this. Days nobody saw. Easy exits you walked past with no one watching. And now a warm voice turns up, on your side at last. It says what nobody else has said out loud. You've earned it.

Read the prize back slowly. For doing well, you win the thing you've been getting free from. It's the letter that says you've won a cruise and only needs your card number. You healed, so here's the injury back. The cigarette turns up wearing a bow, and it's the bill.

The hunger under it is honest, though. You do deserve a reward. Long stretches of hard work with no applause leave a real appetite. Feed it with something that pays out. Go run the shower right now, hot, and stand in it longer than you need to. Take it on purpose, like someone who earned it.

Those days behind you are savings, not pocket money. God helped you stack every one of them. Keep them. A real reward leaves you with more than you had. This one leaves you warm, clean, and still ahead. You did earn something. You're standing in it.