Now I’m The Coin



A short piece I wrote a couple of days back, experimenting with prose for a bit.


When I was little, I’d beg my mother for change, to slide into the little coin slot on the rocket ride, hoping it’d take me to the moon. I’d tug her sleeves, dragging her to each and every ride we’d come across, in love with the idea of how a tiny coin could take me so far. Even though the bolts and screws kept the machine in place, going in circles, it always felt like I was on an adventure and all it took was,

a little change.

I got a little older, and my limbs grew longer. I could no longer fit into the rocket ride, and I didn’t have the time to take walks with my mother. I’d walk by the rocket ride alone, forgetting that there was once a time when…

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