Spreading Luck

I wake with the sun; no longer blanketed by the night's shadow, the beams of light on my closed eyes ring louder than any alarm clock you could ever buy; I wouldn't have anywhere to plug it in anyways. I enjoy sleeping in from time to time, but the sun insists on early days. So I gather the little I have and post up outside the corner store, awaiting its opening.

I sit on the grey concrete with my head between my legs. Trying to use the power of my mind to take me somewhere else for a brief while. The morning air has a coldness to it - even though the sun is shining, the last bit of night's coldness holds on for awhile longer - I picture myself in the warmth. No details, just warmth.

It never works that well, but it's fun to try. After I accept I am here and not there, I process what my eyes are telling me: there's a quarter on the ground in between my legs, heads up; and that once grey concrete surrounding it, now starts to look like a subtle blue. My body lets me feel the holes of sunlight who fought their way through the branches of a blooming tree, landing the back of my neck. This morning, I'll buy a single Marlboro with my breakfast sandwich.

I leave the store with 10 cents to my name. I think about pocketing it for a future meal, but rather, I put it right in front of the door - that way someone will see it. I leave it heads up too. I watch as people enter and exit the store with their heads down refusing to see the luck right in their line of sight. They're all trying to take themselves to the warmth - out of touch. Finally, the shimmer of the dime catches someone in between escape attempts. They squat down to pick it up, mermer, good luck under their breath, and carry on. I smile.