A Copper Disc

The iron gate at the bottom of the steps was unlatched just enough for me to squeeze past. I padded along the sidewalk, keeping close to the edge of the low brick flowerbed. Halfway down the block, buried in loose brown mulch beside a dry marigold stalk, something caught a slant of afternoon light. It was an old penny, green and dull along the rim. I crouched down and pressed my paw against its edge until it tipped upright. I brushed away a speck of dirt, revealing tiny raised letters, and left it leaning safely against the brick.