Shortly after I finished writing this essay about the symbolism of scars, I wiped out on my bike and ended up with five stitches in my chin—and a brand new scar. I mentioned it to the ER surgeon as he scraped the asphalt from the wound and sewed it up. “You should have written about winning the lottery,” he said. The next day, I emailed the editor assigned to my piece and told her about the coincidence. Then I Googled her, never having worked with her before. “Magazine Editor Wins $100,000 Instant Top Prize,” the headline read. She’d won the lottery. What does it all mean?