5 cent dividend

Nothing lasts that doesn’t linger. Though what lasts, aside from the very middle of a dream, when all the faces of everyone you’ve ever known take turns in some sort of absurd role play that leaves you dry mouthed and reeling. Nothing lasts.

I am fighting to stay awake, I tell a pretty maiden, deep into sleep on a night that greeted my departure with warnings of looming deadlines and broke a bottle of champagne on my hull. I know I am sleeping, but it is so comforting here in this place where we live by the laws of neither science nor gods. I hope death is like this, a respite from responsibility among esoteric conversations with pleasant strangers fashioned in the likenesses of people that you used to know.

Lay your head down and I will fight sleep by your side, she says.

Do you remember when you were a kid and you would always look through your change to find a wheat penny? It always felt as though the cashier had made a mistake, letting some treasure of antiquity fall carelessly into your fortunate hands. It linked you to the unimaginable past, somehow, and you wanted to rush to your grandfather and show him in the same way you might run today to Wikipedia. In 1979, your grandpop was the internet.

Maybe in my dreams tonight, he will be there on his patio, feeding the black squirrels and tell me that the wheat pennies were made up to 1958. The last one is barely 15 years older than I am. Maybe some child will find me in his pocket and wonder at the age old mystery of my existence. I found a nickel in my change today, Monticello worn like Medusa on an obol. It was minted in 1973. It is older than dirt.

Comments

Iron Fist said…
I was going to say "Sure it was minted in '73 but flip it over and AT LEAST JEFFERSON STILL HAS ALL HIS HAIR" but then I remembered those dudes probably all wore wigs and so this isn't really the consolation I had hoped it would be.
Janet said…
Whenever something meaningful passes between me and another in a dream state, I spend too much of the morning after trying to figure out what he/she represents for me. Was she just another aspect of me? Was she she? Was she a mix of several people, and thus, no one really? I'm sure if I remembered all my dreams in their entirety, I'd truly go crazy. On that note, I must tell you that I always feel a little less sane when I visit your blog, but this is more of a sane insanity.
eclectic said…
Do you remember when you were a kid and you would always look through your change to find a wheat penny?

Dammit, I never did that. I really, really wish I'd done that! Nowadays, no one uses cash anymore, so change is merely a political call to arms... I am the poster child for wasted childhood now, and it's ALL YOUR FAULT.
Brandon said…
janet, that is a terrific compliment.

shari, well, some waste. my efforts were to find treasure in items with no actual value. that seems like the waste.
Claire said…
I still like the wheat pennies but even better were the silver dollars my granddad gave me and even better than those were his $2 bills that my mom has now. $2 dollar bills are rad, not sure why they stopped making those.
Brandon said…
there was a terrific social experiment once that involved $2 bills. a small business owner issued year end bonuses to his employees. interestingly, he gave these out in $2 bills. soon, everyone in the small town remarked at how much more often they were seeing these at the store when they got change. it was meant to be an illustration of local investment, i think, but it also showed how special it is to be different.
eclectic said…
Hmmm... maybe... but value is subjective, much like beauty: it's in the eye of the beholder, or in this case, the grubby hand of a bright-eyed kid with a pocketful of change, a lollipop in his mouth, and a wheat penny clutched victoriously in his fist.
Brandon said…
you are just calling me grubby because you've seen me with camp hair.
eclectic said…
You show me yours and I'll show you mine.

Hey, is Kristi going this year? We've got SIXTEEN permits!!

Popular Posts