She needed the walk anyway.
If she sat down too soon, she might not get back up.
The neighborhood changed block by block.
First the busy road with the gas station and pawn shop.
Then the laundromat with the broken neon OPEN sign that blinked like it couldn’t make up its mind.
Then the small houses with sagging porches and chain-link fences and plastic toys left out in tiny yards.
Lauren walked with her head down and her hands jammed into her jacket pockets.
She could still hear the little girl’s voice.
What can I get with this?
Not can I have food.
Not can you help me.
What can I get with this?
A nickel.
Five cents.
A coin so small most people left it in cup holders or under couch cushions and forgot it existed.
But the girl had brought it up like an honest customer.
