I have a penny – a short story

I have a penny. The dirty road beneath does not have a penny. The old bricks around do not have a penny. But I have a penny. And I am going to town to spend it.
Bad breath and soot is in the town. Ramblers and haste-makers are in the town. Wild flowers and sweet apples are in the field. But hot sausages and honey cakes are in the town. And I’m going to spend my penny in town.
Come all! Come all! Bellows a trader.
Got y’er meat! Calls the butcher.
Goat cheese and milk, cheap! The herder.
But ’tis a quiet old woman drawing my eye. Her counter is laden with curious wares. A key, a small bottle, a velvet pouch. A rusted spyglass sits in the corner. I nudge it with the tip of my finger, and the light catches in the glass.
Ah, the old spyglass. The woman croons.
That’ll be two pence
But I only have one penny! I exclaim.
Could I launder your clothes, tidy your house maybe-
Ah, ah, ah, little one. Such an eager girl you are. This spyglass once was elegant and lovely, but I can sense your diligent ways, and suspect you’ll treat it as if it still is. I suppose I’ll just be having one penny from you now. She says calmly.
I gasp. A golden spyglass, all mine! For one penny only! Far better than any sweetmeats or buttery bread. I shall skip home and pick a flower or two, wander through the field and munch on a crisp apple as I take the spyglass. The rusted spyglass. For only a penny.


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