Road Thrill

On my two mile jog this morning I found a dime, a quarter, and a nut. Earlier this week I found two pennies, a tiny washer, and a small screw—no more than one piece of loot per run. Back in the day my mom would pick up loose change (and the occasional five dollar bill) walking inside the mall. My coin collection probably is not genetic: I don’t expect to continue my road harvesting habit; not unless the value of the haul shows a geometric progression toward Trumpdom.

The dime fits very neatly into the nut. That sort of accidental precision makes me happy.