When the malediction really began, no human could really say. But for its most recent victim, it began one cold morning at the bank of a river.

A Pocketful of Change

I am not asleep, but I pretend I am. Clenching my face, eyes tightly shut and breathing loudly, as a 4-year-old this is my best impression of being asleep. It isn’t a terrible performance, but it is unlikely that I am fooling him. I hear him shuffling in his pocket, the coins weighing it down heavily. The pockets are as deep as his generosity.