Standing on Edge

I slipped back under the front door and climbed onto the low oak console, eager to shake the evening chill from my dress. Resting beside a ceramic bowl was a thick copper penny. Its milled edge caught the warm glow of the hall lamp. Curious if something so thin could stand, I lifted the coin upright with both hands. It wobbled and tipped over with a sharp clink against the polished wood. Pausing to steady my balance, I eased the coin into a faint, level groove in the wood grain. I held it gently between my fingertips, then slowly drew my hands back. It stayed upright, catching the amber light like a tiny round gate.