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One Is Always Enough. |
| Written by Shoosh Russelcrust | |
| Wednesday, 27 February 2008 | |
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Share it:      "A nickle mean that much to you?" said Rob. Whit put the nickel in a pocket in his wallet and zipped it shut. The pocket buldged with change and jingled like a tamborine into his back pocket. Back from his younger days he remembered another kid saying that if you collect all the change you see and put it into an account, you'll get rich without having to work for it. Whit was working on twelve years of collecting orphan change and depositing it without exception. So far, he only had seventy-three dollars and eighty-seven cents. "Not really," Whit said. "No. They don't. But remember you said that the next time you need change," Whit said. When people were down in the rent they prayed for fiscal miracles. They did it in the movies, and his family had done it around the dinner table. They prayed for a job to come through, or to win the lottery, or a check from anyone. It always came through. Always as a miracle, an unbelievable twist that could never be expected. But Whit saw a little piece of miracle in every dime he picked up, because eventually, it would get him there. He knew it. And if he wasn't dead in another twelve years, he might get another seventy-three dollars and eighty seven cents. He might never find another quarter in his life, or he might find them all. But he kept collecting every penny he came by, or five, ten, twenty-five times that. Copyright 2008 Shoosh Russelcrust |
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