Small room was dimly lit by a beam of light coming from a gap between curtains. Dust particles were visibly flowing through that little beam. Suddenly, the alarm clock rang. Unusual occurrence on 2 pm yet a common thing for Richard Dickens. He slowly got up from bed, barely managing not to fall back asleep despite the alarm. He lazily stepped over pile of dirty clothes, old journals, newspapers and torn plastic packages and turned off the annoying beeping of a clock.
He started bending over the piles of clothes and trash on the floor, the table, the bed to find something that can at the very least resemble the clean clothes. A few minutes after Richard was fully clothed in an unmatched mess of an outfit. The only thing missing was a pair of glasses.
Even though over the course of years Richard learned to navigate through the mess he makes wherever he stays, he struggled to find the one thing that makes him look a bit smarter (and, well, look at all). Still hungover from a yesterday party he checked every drawer, every pile of garbage and every corner of his room, yet found nothing but an empty beer can and a bunch of cockroaches.
“Fuсk it!” he exclaimed loudly. “I’m a fuсking millionaire, I can afford another pair” he said as if trying to persuade his own glasses to stop hiding and come out. After a moment of silence, he left his room and quickly walked towards the exit.
On the streets the life was seething from every corner. Brokers in their fancy suits were rushing somewhere, tourists were taking photos all around the street, huge streams of people were moving back and forth. A giant complicated mechanism of people with jobs, plans and purposes and amidst them – Richard Dickens, who seemed to forget that he rents his little apartment in the very middle of the city. Convenient place to get to any major night party seemed to be more than alive even during the day.
After a quick look around Richard swiftly moved towards the closest oculist he looked up on his phone before going out. Moving through seemingly endless masses of people, he started vaguely remembering the surroundings. He walked past the places his father often took him to many years ago. “Fuсking dad” - Richard thought to himself – “old bustard”

Henry Dickens the Second was born from a wealthy family. From the earliest years of his life, he had a silver spoon in his mouth. Curious, humble and overall good kid managed to grow up to be an intelligent and talented heir of the Dickens family. After excellently finishing a degree in Oxford university he moved to New York to expand family business and had quite a success with it.
While working in New York Henry managed to find a loving wife, who supported him ever since throughout his life and made him a total of 3 children – 2 girls and 1 boy. Henry raised each one of them strictly and meticulously. Special attention Henry paid to his son – Richard.

Walking to the little corner shop Richard was greeted with a little “ding” of the little bell on top of the door. Completely white interior contrasted with colorful billboards Dick has seen outside. Door behind the counter opened and a short old man in a while doctor’s coat walked into the room. Old man’s piercing gaze was directed at a scraggy and dirty customer.
“We don’t sell drugs” he said sharply and started to turn around while mumbling something clearly inappropriate.
“Glasse…” – Richard’s voice cracked. “I need glasses”.
“Oh, sorry young man, it’s that your look… Well, sorry” – old man hastened to say – “Let’s get your eyes checked out before we get you a new pair”
Old man took Richard to his cabinet in the back. Besides the boards with letters and machines to measure sight, there was a leather sofa, a desk with a large armchair behind it, bunch of papers with numbers and tables that seemed to be for accounting purposes.
“Sit down, sir” – old man said to Richard – “I need to fill in some papers. How can I call you?”
“Richard” – he answered
“Full name?”
“Richard Dickens”
“Oh, Dickens? Are you related to THAT Dickens family!?” – old man exclaimed with his eyes so round it seemed they are about to fall out
” Just a coincidence” – Richard mumbled while falling down on the sofa.

Unfortunately, unlike his father, Richard didn’t inherit any of his talents. With great difficulties he somehow enrolled into a university in the middle of nowhere and managed to spend more time on parties (and hangovers after those parties) than on his classes. Without any ambitions, talents or concern about the future Richard dropped out the same year he enrolled and shamefully returned back to his father in New York.
Upon arrival back home Richard found no one at first glance. “Dick, come here!” shouted his father from the cabinet upstairs. After a moment of hesitation Richard headed to the cabinet. As soon as door opened, heavy atmosphere got to Richard. His mother was quietly crying, sitting on the little sofa to the side of the desk. Behind the desk – his father.
“Come in, Dick” – he said with a hint of irritation
Richard timidly came to the middle of the room. His father was quietly looking over the document. So quietly, in fact, that Richard could hear his mother’s sobbing.
“How come you fail us again, Dick?”
Richard struggled to pick the words. He knows this tone of his father’s voice – he is angry. Henry always had patience not to blow up in the middle of the conversation, yet his son knew that this tone means punishment. There might not be a tantrum, but he knows he fuсked up and he needs to pick his words carefully. Who knows? Maybe his father decides not to give him money anymore?
“Answer, Richard Dickens. How did you drop out?” – Henry repeated
“Sorry, dad. I-It was hard to learn and teachers they don’t like me and-”
“Quiet!” – exclaimed Richard’s father – “Enough of these lies. I know you haven’t studied. Is this what I was teaching you to do throughout your life? Partying and failing?”
“But dad-”
“Stop!” – Henry interrupted again – “If you think you can fool around, then do so. I will even give you money for this. Here” – Henry handed his son 300 dollars. – “Take this and from now on, party as much as you can. And don’t ever come back here. That is the last time you get money from me. Now take your shit and leave”

After half an out of procedures and tests, Richard’s new pair of glasses was ready. He paid up and left the store. With the new pair of glasses Richard didn’t look like a regular junkie anymore, he now looks like a nerd that forgot how to use washing machine and shower (so a regular nerd). Or like a smart junkie. But the looks weren’t the thing that worried Richard at the moment. Old oculist reminded Richard about his family.
Thinking about his dad, his sobbing mom, his two little sisters and what happened to all of them after all these years, he got lost in his thoughts. Walking in the direction opposite to his house he passed alley after alley, sky became dark and lights in the middle of New York started shining as always. But Richard didn’t see these lights. Walking hour after hour he was remembering, thinking, coursing through his life. Street after street, alley after alley and he is standing by some gas station.
Richard spent a good minute looking at that gas station. Some letters on the neon sign were not working, blinding white light was shining inside the gas station. There ware no cars and the only human presence around that area consisted of Richard and a cashier. He walked in.
Richard was greeted by a high-pitched “ding-dong” sound of automatic doors. He grabbed a bottle of cheap whiskey and went to check out. On the register he was greeted by a little Christmas tree.
“Ah, a Christmas… I forgot” – Richard mumbled
“Yes!” – enthusiastically said plump lady behind the register – “On this matter there is a Christmas lottery. Extra prize pool you know? Wanna buy one?”
“Alright, I’ll have one. And give me a penny please” – quietly said Richard
He paid for the booze and a ticked, left the store and settled down on the sidewalk. After a huge gulp of whiskey his eyes closed, face twisted. Taste of the cheap alcohol was unbearable. After opening eyes, he looked at the lottery ticket. Long sight. He erased a first square. A chance to win is present. Second square gone in a second. Same picture appeared from below the coin. If the third one is the same – he is a winner. Swift motion – a picture is there and… it’s not it. 2 dollars is his prize
"Fuсk" – he sighted – “I guess I can’t be that lucky twice”
A new stream of memories ran through his brain.

Summer scent of grass, sun at its zenith, 300 dollars in hand and a feeling of deep anger inside. Richard didn’t even take his clothes and left the house with basically nothing to him. He walked wherever his eyes lead him, away from his parents’ house. He was thinking about what he could’ve done different but his own stupidity didn’t allow him to think of anything sensible. One after another excuses popped into his mind. “But I can’t study”, “Dad is too strict”, “I’ve got bad genes”, “teachers are too strict”, “excuse”, “excuse”, “excuse”
Before he knew it, sun was already setting, sky was painted red, he – is at some faraway gas station. Bottle of cheap whiskey was bought in an instant alongside with a lottery ticket. First gulp of alcohol – his throat is burning; he is rubbing off the first square on the ticket. ‘7’. Second gulp and mouthful of fire water goes into his stomach. Still burning from the whiskey, he rubs off the second square. ‘7’ again. Richard’s eyes are widened, he puts off the bottle and erases the protective layer on the third square. ‘7’. Richard Dickens won the jackpot – 10 million dollars.  Newborn millionaire is right there, sitting on a sidewalk with the cheapest alcohol he could pick. “Fuсk father! Fuсk that whole family! I’m gonna have a new life! I don’t need anyone now!”

Tracing back the long-forgotten path, Richard walks in the night. Snow is creaking under his feet, while falling snowflakes are filling the holes of his steps. He can see street lights yet again. Alley after alley, street after street – he sees the house. A house he was once exiled from. “Ding-dong” – no answer – “ding-dong” – sounds of heavy steps are heard from behind the door. The key turns, door slowly moves. Wrinkled face shows from behind the door.
“Father” – Richard says looking at wrinkles of his father, at his sunken eyes, his grey hair.
“Dick” – Henry exclaims in disbelief – “Is this really you, my boy? Am I dreaming?”
“No, dad, this is really me. I’m back”
“Quick, come in son, I’m so happy to see you. I… I missed you a lot”
Coming into the house Richard noticed that nothing here changed. Everything is just like he remembers it to be. Just a tat bit old and dusty. Henry offered son a cup of tea. Minute later – they are sitting at the table, talking about passed years.
“Dad, uhm… I can’t hear anyone in the house. Is mom shopping or something?”
Henry went silent for a minute. “About that. After you left, she was stressed out. We… I thought you would come back in a day or two but you never returned home. Your mother got sick. Really sick. She was worried about you until the very last moment and... She… didn’t make it”
Silence filled the room.
“What about the girls?”
“Left. They both went to college. Mila graduated already but she didn’t come back. She is living on her own now. Sorry, son, that’s my fault”
Silence again.
Suddenly, Henry got up. He took 2 glasses and a bottle of expensive-looking bottle and poured a drink to himself and his son. Two Dickens couldn’t say a word.

At dawn Richard parted ways with his father. Cold wind stinged his nose, face was freezing, morning light reflected from white snow and the whole rainbow of it was falling into his eyes. On his way he stumbled upon a convenience store.