Tomorrow is my birthday and I am no longer 22.
It was a few weeks ago when some strangers told me to watch for this number everywhere. They were a couple of punks of good nature. I was out with some coworkers after a long day of working at a restaurant during a busy art fair. We went to smoke some weed in an alleyway when we met the three of them. Deciding to be generous we all shared and talked. On the way out I had to go back for my something and they took their shoes off and showed me their matching 222 tattoos.
After that I was on my way home via bike and on the way down a hill I had a feeling like it was important to slow down. Very important. Not dangerous, just important. I didn’t know why. When I got to the entrance to the park I like to ride down home I saw someone I knew get off the bus, a girl who invited me to her band’s show the next day. I was debating between Beer Fest or that all day, and that chance meeting made my mind up.
The next day I go to my friend’s house to go to the show together and on her fridge is 2222 in a spiral of magnetic letters.
The next time I saw it I was with one of the same coworkers at one of her friends’ house watching The Godfather on channel 222.
I am also seeing other numbers in 3, yesterday and this morning I saw 666 come up.

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I’ve always thought that the number 222 was my number – in 1970 when the government had a draft lottery to determine who would go to Viet Nam, my birthday came up number 222 in the lottery. They never took anyone that high. At the time I lived at 222 E. 10th st. I have worked at a job for the past 25 years whose phone number ends in 222. That number has always been good to me.

Submitted by Mickey M.

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