Fifty Cents

The machine took the fifty cents.

I watched the spiral turn.

The bag hung there.

Halfway down. Stuck.

The light was still on inside the machine.

Everything else was accessible.

Just not that one thing.

I didn't try again.

I just walked away.

This is what I don't understand about myself—

that I can lose money

and not fight for it.

That I can watch something I paid for

become inaccessible

and just walk away.

There are bigger things

I've walked away from.

The bag stayed in the machine.

The light stayed on.

Someone else might jiggle it free.

Someone else might get

what I paid for.

I was done with it.

The money was gone.

The snack was gone.

And I was done

trying to make it work.

This is what fifty cents taught me—

that I'm the kind of person

who gives up.

That I'm the kind of person

who pays and doesn't collect.

I walked back to my desk.

The bag stayed in the machine.

The light stayed on.

And I was fine with that.