Money

SoCS – Cash

Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “cash”

It’s a dirty word so they say, and as a product it’s actually dirty if you ask my friend about this who works in a cash office. I guess if you think about it logically it’s true too, all those places that money seems to go that we never really think about. Notes they get scrunched up in pockets, rolled up for drugs, left in old socks under mattress for paranoid people saving for a rainy day. They get folded and slipped into bra’s by girls out dancing but are too young to carry a bag (ah I remember those days fondly), or folded into the back of a travel pass – that emergency money we all desire to have available.

Then of course we still have the coins to think about, covered in ridges ready to hold the dirt and grime of everyday life. Clammy metal that attracts all manner of bacteria from sticky fingers eager to by sweets, or coins placed in mouths by bored children which then get put back into purses. Coins that drop on to pavements or roll through the grass . We even used to have a game of monies when we were young (after marbles got banned in our school) which meant we were actually just throwing money around on the floor yet we never questioned the germs: and you can bet the tuck shop never did either.

Even now I will always find dusty coins while cleaning, hidden in handbags and pockets of coats, or simply coins that have been dropped and rolled out of sight. I have containers of pennies that get put into tubs with the idea that one day I will pour them into the cash counting machine yet this never actually happens so instead I just end up with a big coin mountain.
Maybe one day soon I will get around to actually doing this, I could be rich! Or at least have enough for a bottle of wine to reward myself for the next batch of cleaning

Thrill of the chase

He was never mine not really, not where it mattered.

For the most part, I am a shareholder. A greedy coveter grasping a ticket, a little piece of him that I believe is mine, until the next time. The next spin of the wheel, eagerly watching the bounce, wondering where the white ball will land, wondering if my time is near. Alas, lady luck was never a friend to me. And so shall he be, forever more on the move,free to roam to whichever ever table he pleases. I can but sit and watch agog whilst the women sigh and feign over him. My stomach knotting to see blood red fingertips brush his skin. My scorn rises as perfumed beauties fawn and blush to see him pass by, they even lean in to smell his sweet scent at times. my discontent clearly shown, I cannot help it.
He is not mine any more yet once he was and I am loathe to forget. The night we shared on the poker table, I recall the revelry in his caress. How I would pull him to my lips with each jubilant squeal. I remember the fire of anticipation before we touched, our first meeting of indecency, our indiscretion of sorts.

Our last meeting was so long ago yet still I yearn for you, still I sit and watch you work your magic on others, hoping one day your delights will come back to me. praying for a day you will return so I can love you better, and not let you slip so easily through my fingertips..
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