An Extensive, Superfluous, Humorous,
and Completely Unfounded Tale about
How I Lost a Penny
The unfortunate event occurred just over seven moons ago, in the lonely, frost-filled air of an early Idahoan spring. The trees were covered in a layer of sparkling white frost, delicately placed like a blanket on their evergreen limbs by a cool fog that descended on the street like nightfall on a winter's day. Of snow, there was none, only the remnants of Jack Frost's lively dance on all things both near and far. None would venture out on a morning such as this if their presence weren't absolutely necessary, and only then with the most extreme care that can be given to such a task. The cold adds briskness to one's step, as it did mine, and perhaps that is why this terrible misfortune happened to one such as I, for unless Fortuna was displeased with my conduct, it seems to be the only explanation.
It was the third hour of sunrise, when the sun rests just above the treetops, when its ascent begins to slow as it reaches its apex, but the fog would not lift. If I had waited until the fog had disappeared, perhaps this tribulation might have been avoided, as when the sun touches the Earth, the air begins to grow warm; surely my pace would be less rushed if the weather had but smiled on this poor frame. Alas, as with all events in the past, they are but a memory of what was, and no amount of wishing and pleading with the Fates can change what has transpired.
Oh, how I lament that fateful hour when I first set foot on that cold, frozen ground! I had simply wished to visit a close acquaintance who had recently fallen ill and was in need of company, but even in the best of intentions, misadventure may fall upon anyone. The air was still and silent in those early morning hours, and though the fog obscured vision and the cold nipped at my nose, it was pleasant to be on an errand, to once again have a reason for existing and a purpose to life. The walk was short in terms of length, but it lasted long enough for the cold to penetrate my jacket and suck away at my warmth. The vigorous stride I set caused my breath to quicken and a merry red to spread to my cheeks and the top of my nose.
As I knocked on the entrance to my friend's household, I marveled at a small pattern of frost on a window nearby, an infinitely intricate yet delicate piece of handiwork by Nature on a surface where few could enjoy her masterpiece before it was melted away by the sun's glare. Yet, there she had placed it with little care to whether it would be truly appreciated by us mere mortals or not. To her, creating is pleasing enough; she requires no attention nor any praise.
I spent just a few hours keeping my sickly friend company, providing meager, but heart-felt care. When I departed, the air had not become warmer--I even fancied the air had become cooler from that morning; that the fog had indeed grown denser and more prevalent than before; to that end, the sun's light seemed to be fading faster than it could grow; and I imagined it was due time for a snowfall--and so I had cause to place my hands inside my pockets as to preserve what little warmth I had. To my surprise and dismay, there was a hole in the bottom of the left, large enough, for that matter, so that I could fit my entire hand through it.
Just then, I remembered that I had placed a penny in that same pocket in which the hole was discovered, just that morning as I was exiting my house. The small coin could have fallen out anytime during my trek to my friend's abode. The coin in question possessed a dull copper color with little sheen left in its appearance, so much so that it no longer reflected light as a proper coin should; this terrible happenstance only compounded my anxiety and worry, as the nature of the coin would cause it to blend in with the brown ground. The coin would most likely have fallen out sooner in my walk rather than later, and from this logic I made the fateful decision to begin my investigation at my dwelling. I rushed along the sidewalk, dashing like a madman, for I knew that my time for searching was limited to only a few more hours before the sun would set; if I could not find it by nightfall, it was unlikely I would ever find that precious penny, and it would be lost forever.
The quest for that unimportant, nearly worthless, and small, small coin seemed daunting and hopeless, especially with such a small time frame, and as the seconds dragged themselves along, as the minutes turned into hours, all my effort and all my determination yielded no fruit save a lonely, dirty glove and a chill that would not leave me for hours. The sun had fallen to the position just above the horizon, transforming the sky into a painting filled with hues of every color, from the dark blue of a stormy sea to the soft purple of a field of lavender to the pleasant orange glow that can only be found when the sun touches the edges of the sky, with half of the horizon taking on the dark of night and half clinging onto the quickly fading light. I was forced to abandon my search and retire to my home, the only result a frozen nose and a stiffness to my bones that could have only come from the painfully slow walk and stooped posture required to properly conduct my search.
As I began walking down the pavement that lead to my house, the heavens bestowed a gift to mankind but a curse to me: a light snow that would soon increase in its furry until it raged as a blizzard. The snowflakes fell gently upon my jacket and my hair, and I paused to glimpse the last dying rays of the day. With the black of night overtaking the horizon, I slowly entered my dark abode with the walk of one who had lost something dear and sat down heavily on a large chair near my fireplace, where the ashes of the fire created to heat the morning lay, still warm. I could feel the disappointment from failure begin to take a terrible hold on my mind, for that sole penny, mislaid on the pavement of the soon-to-be snow covered road, was lost to me forevermore.
It was no sooner then I gave entrance to those thoughts that a shrill ring came from my kitchen; my telephone was ringing, saving me from the endless despair that would have undoubtedly taken my mind had I remained in that chair just a few moments longer. I slowly stood up from that soft seat near the fireplace to answer the ringing machine, though only common courtesy guided mine actions for I had no desire to speak to anyone. I moved too slowly and did not reach the telephone by the end of the last ring, so the call moved to the answering machine; it happened to be the same friend I had visited that morning, calling to ask me a question. The voice on the recorder asked if I had lost a penny, a very bleak one covered in tarnish and grime, for one was found as my friend was preparing for the blizzard.
And that is the story of how I lost a penny.
It was the third hour of sunrise, when the sun rests just above the treetops, when its ascent begins to slow as it reaches its apex, but the fog would not lift. If I had waited until the fog had disappeared, perhaps this tribulation might have been avoided, as when the sun touches the Earth, the air begins to grow warm; surely my pace would be less rushed if the weather had but smiled on this poor frame. Alas, as with all events in the past, they are but a memory of what was, and no amount of wishing and pleading with the Fates can change what has transpired.
Oh, how I lament that fateful hour when I first set foot on that cold, frozen ground! I had simply wished to visit a close acquaintance who had recently fallen ill and was in need of company, but even in the best of intentions, misadventure may fall upon anyone. The air was still and silent in those early morning hours, and though the fog obscured vision and the cold nipped at my nose, it was pleasant to be on an errand, to once again have a reason for existing and a purpose to life. The walk was short in terms of length, but it lasted long enough for the cold to penetrate my jacket and suck away at my warmth. The vigorous stride I set caused my breath to quicken and a merry red to spread to my cheeks and the top of my nose.
As I knocked on the entrance to my friend's household, I marveled at a small pattern of frost on a window nearby, an infinitely intricate yet delicate piece of handiwork by Nature on a surface where few could enjoy her masterpiece before it was melted away by the sun's glare. Yet, there she had placed it with little care to whether it would be truly appreciated by us mere mortals or not. To her, creating is pleasing enough; she requires no attention nor any praise.
I spent just a few hours keeping my sickly friend company, providing meager, but heart-felt care. When I departed, the air had not become warmer--I even fancied the air had become cooler from that morning; that the fog had indeed grown denser and more prevalent than before; to that end, the sun's light seemed to be fading faster than it could grow; and I imagined it was due time for a snowfall--and so I had cause to place my hands inside my pockets as to preserve what little warmth I had. To my surprise and dismay, there was a hole in the bottom of the left, large enough, for that matter, so that I could fit my entire hand through it.
Just then, I remembered that I had placed a penny in that same pocket in which the hole was discovered, just that morning as I was exiting my house. The small coin could have fallen out anytime during my trek to my friend's abode. The coin in question possessed a dull copper color with little sheen left in its appearance, so much so that it no longer reflected light as a proper coin should; this terrible happenstance only compounded my anxiety and worry, as the nature of the coin would cause it to blend in with the brown ground. The coin would most likely have fallen out sooner in my walk rather than later, and from this logic I made the fateful decision to begin my investigation at my dwelling. I rushed along the sidewalk, dashing like a madman, for I knew that my time for searching was limited to only a few more hours before the sun would set; if I could not find it by nightfall, it was unlikely I would ever find that precious penny, and it would be lost forever.
The quest for that unimportant, nearly worthless, and small, small coin seemed daunting and hopeless, especially with such a small time frame, and as the seconds dragged themselves along, as the minutes turned into hours, all my effort and all my determination yielded no fruit save a lonely, dirty glove and a chill that would not leave me for hours. The sun had fallen to the position just above the horizon, transforming the sky into a painting filled with hues of every color, from the dark blue of a stormy sea to the soft purple of a field of lavender to the pleasant orange glow that can only be found when the sun touches the edges of the sky, with half of the horizon taking on the dark of night and half clinging onto the quickly fading light. I was forced to abandon my search and retire to my home, the only result a frozen nose and a stiffness to my bones that could have only come from the painfully slow walk and stooped posture required to properly conduct my search.
As I began walking down the pavement that lead to my house, the heavens bestowed a gift to mankind but a curse to me: a light snow that would soon increase in its furry until it raged as a blizzard. The snowflakes fell gently upon my jacket and my hair, and I paused to glimpse the last dying rays of the day. With the black of night overtaking the horizon, I slowly entered my dark abode with the walk of one who had lost something dear and sat down heavily on a large chair near my fireplace, where the ashes of the fire created to heat the morning lay, still warm. I could feel the disappointment from failure begin to take a terrible hold on my mind, for that sole penny, mislaid on the pavement of the soon-to-be snow covered road, was lost to me forevermore.
It was no sooner then I gave entrance to those thoughts that a shrill ring came from my kitchen; my telephone was ringing, saving me from the endless despair that would have undoubtedly taken my mind had I remained in that chair just a few moments longer. I slowly stood up from that soft seat near the fireplace to answer the ringing machine, though only common courtesy guided mine actions for I had no desire to speak to anyone. I moved too slowly and did not reach the telephone by the end of the last ring, so the call moved to the answering machine; it happened to be the same friend I had visited that morning, calling to ask me a question. The voice on the recorder asked if I had lost a penny, a very bleak one covered in tarnish and grime, for one was found as my friend was preparing for the blizzard.
And that is the story of how I lost a penny.
Photo: dreamstime.com
12/30/13
12/30/13