I was on top of the world. Or so it seemed, as long as the screen glowed with hope, and the token $TRUMP soared like a bird released from its cage. It was my key to freedom. For ten years, I bent my back, saving every ruble to break free from the gray routine. And here it is — my chance. I bet everything: the savings I had set aside for a dream, the loan I took with gritted teeth, even sold the old car that I used to drive my wife and son. "TRUMP is victory," I repeated, watching the chart surge upward, promising me a throne.