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u24
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Some people have a lucky penny.
They hold onto it like a last desperate attempt to retain some element of the mystical in their lives. Some vague amount of superstition in an otherwise mundane life whose magic has been explained away by science. A piece of metal that they keep in a special compartment of their wallet or purse, never to be spent, that brings them luck.
I don't have a lucky penny.
I have something else. I found it on the floor. Not hidden, just staring up at me in broad daylight in defiance of the sheer improbability of its presence.
It's just something that doesn't happen to people. I mean, you're aware of the possibility, sure. But the only stories you hear are from friends-of-friends, hearsay and rumours. It never happens to you.
I have a lucky fiver. A five pound note sits, neatly folded, in my wallet. At first I was just saving it for something that was really worth spending it on - you don't spend a random gift like that on just anything. But now I'm not sure I'll ever spend it. People laugh when I tell them I have a lucky fiver, but their mirth turns to incredulity and finally a strange mixture of jealousy and respect as I relate to them how I found it just sitting on the path outside.
"But that never happens!" they say.
"Yes", I reply, "that's what makes it lucky"...
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070504
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