Day 8: You find an ancient coin. What do you do with it?
The coin arced, shining bright in the sun until it disappeared down the well. I peered into the dark hole just as the coin hit the bottom with a satisfying splash. Good riddance. That coin had done nothing but bring me bad luck since I picked it up. For months I’d carried it in my pocket, convinced my life would magically change for the better. As if a simple metal disc had the power to alter my circumstances, raise me from the gutter. I turned on my heel, determined to put the whole thing behind me. Erase the last few weeks from my mind. For good. My steps now light and carefree, I strolled the streets. Things were changing already. Optimism flooded my heart, filled my soul with promise. Joy. I wanted to skip, to dance, to sing. I faltered, frowning and came to a stop in the middle of the street. There on the dirt lay a golden coin, winking at me as if to say hello old friend. I swallowed hard, backing away as if it would, could hurt me. Then I ran. Fast and far until my sides heaved and my lungs burned. All because of a coin.