Minding the gaps

I unearthed an old writing notebook recently. Most of what's inside has either been used already or doesn't deserve to be used, but there are one or two scraps that might be retooled, retold. Here's one such fragment, the start of something, maybe, reproduced here exactly as written, warts 'n' all and very unedited. What do you think?

Daniel Button was obsessed with money, his every waking moment devoted to its pursuit, yet somehow he remained of average means at best. When he invested in shares, the market crashed. When he gambled on a horse, it would fall at the last. Despite years of Premium Bond ownership, Daniel had never won more than £25. And although he'd played the Lottery even week since its launch, he'd never won more than the occasional tenner.
     It didn't stop him though. The Lottery was his grail. He played every new game that launched, spending an increasing amount of money on tickets. Then scratchcards. Every week, every game, Daniel played. And he never won more than a tenth of his outlay.
     When the New Year's Day Millionaire Maker scratchcard was announced, Daniel had a plan, and a budget. Buy ten tickets from each of ten different shops. Surely, finally, wealth beckoned?
     As he queued in the tenth shop, worrying with his last £10 note, he told himself that this was the one - a life that didn't involve standing in line behind malodorous pensioners in mouse-brown overcoats was only moments away.
     And then the malodorous pensioner in the mouse-brown overcoat bought a single Lottery scratchcard, and won a million pounds, right there in front of Daniel's disbelieving eyes.
     Button went to bed believing God was against him.
     Yet when he awoke, he had cause to reconsider, for it seemed to be New Year's Day again, and only he had noticed. At first he thought the DJ had made a mistake but when he turned on the TV and found yesterday's headlines were still breaking news, Daniel could only conclude that somehow he'd been given a second chance. Everything was the same - yet now, one thing could be different.
     Daniel set off at the same time, and visited the same shops, in the same order. His first nine visits yielded exactly the same results as they had yesterday. Or was it today? Daniel wasn't sure, and had stopped trying to figure out his second chance. As he made his way towards the tenth shop, final tenner in hand, Button quickened his pace, determined to be one place further forward in the queue.
     With 100 yards to go, Daniel spotted his opponent waiting patiently for traffic lights to change so that

And that's as far as I got. I suspect this was written for a hot-pen exercise, a ten minute warm-up. Certainly it doesn't feel like something I laboured over. And certainly it is conceptually indebted to Groundhog Day. But it's not terrible, I think.

I also don't know where I was going with this. What would happen to the pensioner in the mouse-brown overcoat? What twist in the tail was brewing? I can't remember. Dated pieces around this snippet suggest it was written in mid-2011, so it's been languishing for eight years. Unless I can think of the outcome, I guess it will carry on languishing...