Author: David Ettedgui

One morning, like any other day, I was wandering aimlessly to no particular place when I had happened upon what seemed to be a quarter that was sitting there just waiting for me to pick it up. I approached the George Washington metallic portrait and grabbed it in less than the shake of a lambs tail. Holding the quarter in my hand told me that this was unlike any quarter, it was as if it had been waiting for me to pick it up, since it had been resting next to entrance of an establishment with lights and sound exuberating…

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