A man stands in line at Wendy's. While observing the menu he notices a young woman dropping change in front of him. There was a little girl standing next to her and she was holding the woman's hand. As the young woman bent down to pick up the nickels and dimes he also bent down. From his mouth sincerely came,"every dime counts." The little girl looked at the man as the woman stood up digging in her purse as if looking for her coin purse or something. The little girl was not smiling and not old enough to run a sympathy scam on him. I swear it was like a play as I sat at a nearby table watching this older gentleman looking this girl in the eye for what seemed like a full minute while I anxiously waited for the next move which was likely to occur in this very second, this one moment in time. What did the man do? He walked right past the girl and the woman and as he did he put a piece of paper in the little girls hand.
I wonder what was on that piece of paper. I thought it was money at first but since I heard no laughter and saw no smile, I have to think it was still at least something. I watched them get their food and they walked out the door. The little girl dropped that piece of paper on her way to the car and it fell to the blacktop. I just had to know what that paper said, if anything. I walked out and just as I got there a wind came and blew the paper up into my hand. It was truely an incredible thing. It was a corner of some glossy magazine and on it was this: Everytime you give up a nickel, it comes back to you dressed like a dime; but sometimes that dime does not come in the form of a dime. It may come in the form of a smile from someone you don't even know or a cool breeze on a particularly warm day. No matter what it is always a good idea to pack some loose change with ya whenever you go. Not for the dimes, but for the times when you need words to make rhymes and you cannot afford Wendy's. 98.2

none, yet

Alone in my box sheltered from the fear I have solice for a spell and a breath of fresh air to clear my box making room for yet another piece of history. Here, in this place, I have the will to be clear. I have the desire to be where I want to be and there are no disappointments. I have full reign of my fiction free from indecision and judgement. I have no need or desire to act in any specific way to cater to anybody's needs but the one's I require-which are very little.
Alone in my box I have the control I seek and the desire I require and the shelter I need to never make a difference in a world full of sadness and wanting, liars and false desires sold for the sake of selling off pieces of manufactured child labor. 98.2