Penny

It was always a good day if she found a penny on the street. She walked with her head down most of the time; lost in her own little world only to snap out of it if there was an insect to avoid treading on, something icky to step over, or a penny to pick up. She had a ledge in her house just in from the front door. Wide enough for ten one penny pieces, she’d stack them up in tens. When the ledge was full she put them all in a little coin bag from the bank to change for a pound.

She never did it for the pennies she got as change. The ledge was only for those small copper coins found on pavements or on seats. She was almost up to seven hundred found pennies. Seven pounds just laying on the street over the course of her adult life!

A shiny new penny glinted at her in the morning sun. With a sound of glee she bent and picked it up. The excited little noise she made went up a notch as she spotted another just in front of her. Two pence in one day? No, three pence! Four! More! Her pockets were bulging with coins by the time she got to the train station for her morning commute. She wondered on the occurrence as she stood near the ticket office. Maybe someone was taking a charity collection to the bank and the bag had a hole? It was when she lifted her head to look around that she noticed something was off.

No people, only pennies.