My pocket was filled with change as I stood before a cold vending machine. Nickels and dimes and some quarters left my fingers to purchase can after can of the same brand of soda. By the time my money had run out I placed six cans of soft drinks on top of the machine and aligned them in an even row. They made me think of a shiny army or silver pawns on a chess board.
I don't know what came over me, why my behavior was so odd but felt so good. When I returned the next day, all the soda was gone. The oddest part was, I believed they would still be there. My doctor said maybe these were symptoms of a hidden malaise. But upon reflection I thought he was the crazy one for living a life never enlivened or one he would not set free. So I left a handful of dimes on his desk and said adios. There was a pay phone that called my name.
Poems of the Week by Robin, Julian and Frank
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