The Figure

A nameless figure crosses a street

Morning breaks. The sun reaching into the sky as a waking child wrestles with sleep. The cars had not yet started their travels and the street lights still fought against the growing sunlight. The alarms begin to chime and the showers began to run. These were the thoughts that sailed through my mind as I gazed at a lonely figure about to cross the street. 

Where he was going, only he knows. If he were a chicken I would dare to question his motives. But before the street is crossed the figure looks down, smiles and reaches for a twinkle on the ground. Twirling it top over tail, inspecting it. Only to place it quickly into a pocket before making way across the still street.

 I look away to check my watch one last time only to be interrupted a breaking of silence. A screech, a horn and the fading yells of blame. The figure, whom I had cast my gaze upon was still once more. Gazing at the penny that he had found on the floor.

 

Find a penny,

Pick it up,

All the day,

You’ll have good luck.

 

 

 

by

David Stephen

Author's Note

if you like it let me know. This is the first short quip I have done so might do more.