The Coin I

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She shouted at his face.
Brassy.
His eyes closed,
He had his lips pressed tight together.
Biting his teeth,
He repeated the mantra in his head,
‘Hold it, it’ll be over shortly.’
‘Hold it, it’ll be over shortly.’
‘Hold it, it’ll be over shortly.’ …
He recalled witnessing an incident years before,
When he was young,
Hanging out with his friend Timmy.
They saw a lady, well-dressed as any other,
Shouting at a middle-aged man’s face –
Slovenly and not a gentleman at first glance.
To their very surprise,
The man opened his mouth to fight back.
Disapprovingly, they glared at him and shook their heads.
Timmy tilted his head and motioned to him,
‘That man does not have the coin.’

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