Monday, June 28, 2010


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.   


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