Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Tarnished

By Iola Foxx


A five-year-old sits next to me on the plane.

“Hey.” I smile. “I’ve got a piece of gold in my pocket.”

“No way, cool! Can I see it?”

“Sure thing, buddy.” I pull out the foil remains of a chocolate coin.

“That isn’t gold.”

“I know, but I like to pretend it is.”

“That’s stupid.”