Standing at the bus stop. Minding my own business. The bright, pre-noon, sun forcing me to look down. I spotted a penny. There was a time when we called them lucky pennies.
I picked it up. I put it away. I probably won’t be able to use it.
This used to be a scene that played out time and time again. However, since Canada abandoned the penny (I don’t even remember when) this scene is rarer and rarer. That might explain why I found an American penny on the ground several hundred kilometres from the border, rather than a home-grown one.
Maybe there is a story here. Perhaps the previous owner recently spent time south of the border and brought that singular penny home as part of change for some purchase. It sat dormant in their pockets or coin purse. Then, deciding to rifle through their pockets or coin purse at the bus stop–because what else would you do at a bus stop, it was discovered and dropped unceremoniously onto the ground to await my arrival.
That’s one lucky penny. That’s one Perfect Moment.