I popped the quarter in the slot and cranked the metal handle. I cupped my hand at the bottom of the spout ready for my treasure—but nothing came. The greedy machine wouldn't give me my candy or the quarter.
I tapped, I turned, I twisted. Nothing. I had to find another quarter. My mouth was cotton, I needed that gum. I circled around the machine hoping to find some money; the circumference grew as I scoured the pavement. Around and around I shuffled until I saw a scuffed up quarter. I bent to retrieve it, but it was stuck I couldn’t remove the money from the asphalt. I pulled and bent my fingernails, the quarter didn’t budge.
I stalked up to the machine and gave it one final thump with my fist. I walked away without my quarter, without my gum, but at least I had a nice bruise to take with me. I rubbed my sore hand and went home.