Magpie tales 140
I have a dollar in my pocket.
It's not crisp, not new, but old, worn, crumpled.
But it's mine, my very own, to do with as I please.
My little hand creeps down to the pocket, to squeeze my dollar with five year old fingers.
I take it out to look at it, memorize it.
There is ink, dark, dark green so it's almost black, and places worn away so it's only just the color of grass.
A man's face, not smiling but not frowning either. He looks very stern, like Daddy, only Daddy's hair is black, not white.
And on the back is a pire-uh... pire-uh...Pire-uh-mid! Only it's not done and there's a triangle of light with an Eye floating in the sky above it. God's eye? I'll ask Daddy, he knows EVERYTHING.
And the number. 1. One. Oh En Ee. One.
That's a dollar, one hundred whole pennies worth, all mine, all for me, I can buy whatever I want with it.
I could save it and buy a new doll, or maybe even a pony, but that would take lots of dollars and I only have one. It's not new and crisp, but it's mine, to do with as I please, Mommy said.
She said that means I can do whatever I want with it. I could give it away or keep it close.
I don't know what I'll do with it.
but it's a hundred whole pennies, a whole dollar, my very own.