If i had to tell this story, it would go something like this. "In a small nameless town out in the middle of nobody-knows-where, the total population of three hundred people cleberate a lottery every single year on June 27th. The lottery would consist of everybody in the village drawing a piece of paper out of a black box that had been handed down through generations. The main reasons and cause for this lottery have long been forgotten, and some other villages have given it up completely. A man that goes by the name of Mr. Summers that owns a small coal company runs the lottery, as well as all the other public events. This year a women named Mrs. Hutchenson, who showed up late to the lottery was the one who picked the piece of paper with the black dot on it. And as a reward, she was pelted with rocks that the children of the village had gathered before the lottery started, until she was dead.
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