The Coin

Management bought a paper bag of plums and dropped a small coin while putting away the change.

It rolled under the counter.

The floor was wet. We held the bag between our knees and bent down. The coin lay just beyond our fingertips.

“I’ll get it with the broom,” said the greengrocer.

“Nearly there,” we said.

We turned one foot sideways and stretched. The bag slipped a little. We tightened our knees.

The greengrocer reached for the broom.

“No need,” we said.

A ridge in the coin caught our nail. We drew it towards us, a fraction at a time, careful not to push it farther back.

The paper began to tear.

We pressed harder.

When we stood up, the bag had no bottom. One plum had stopped beneath our heel. Another was rolling towards the door.

The greengrocer brought the broom.

We opened our hand to show that we had got the coin. There was a dark streak across it.

While he swept the plums into a dustpan, we rubbed it clean on our sleeve.