миллион

"The Last Dollar Before a Million"
In the most inconspicuous corner of the city bustle, at the crossing of forgotten dreams and tired steps, he stood - Maxim, with his hand outstretched to passers-by and eyes surprisingly bright for such a gray place. In the waiting palm rested the only dollar - the last fragment of his family inheritance. He was a boy whom his mother taught to count the stars and believe that somewhere among them, his own was hidden - special, sparkling, only his. "With this dollar, you will begin your path to millions," - whispered the echo of his father's words in his heart.
The heat of the day gave way to evening gold, and the dollar remained in his palm, not attracting the gaze of passers-by glued to the screens of their gadgets. But tonight promised to be different. Destiny extended a hand to Maxim in the form of an old man with a battered leather briefcase, who stopped in front of him, as if feeling the weight of his boyish dreams. "Many pass by without even noticing you, but I see more," the old man said, boring into the boy with a piercing gaze. "Tell me what you really want, and I will show you how to achieve it."
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