The morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a full-summer day; the flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green. The people of the village began to gather in the square, between the post office and the bank, around ten o’clock; in some towns there were so many people that the lottery took two days and had to be started on June 2th. but in this village, where there were only about three hundred people, the whole lottery took less than two hours, so it could begin at ten o’clock in the morning and still be through in time to allow the villagers to get home for noon dinner.
Así inicia uno de los mejores cuentos que he leído, el clásico de Shirley Jackson: The Lottery. Además del virtuosismo para invocar y transmitir el horror del azar, encuentro fascinante en este relato la insospechada y magistral revelación del barniz de cotidianidad, de rutina y acaso de felicidad que recubre una realidad abominable y fatal.