Saturday Morn

Quarters rained down from the change machine. Some, bright and shiny whereas others were a dirty gray. Washington’s head chipped away at by time and use.

The young woman counted the silver one by one in her small hands. Placed each coin into the slot and added soap as lukewarm water filled the washer. Her child kept tugging at her shirt.

Here baby, she told her girl, Go getcha something to eat, she said, pointing at the vending machines, the kid took notice.

In front of her was a plethora of choices; candy bars and corn chips. Cherry and cheeses danishes. Juicy Fruit and Blow Pops dangled in front of her as well. Numbers and letters were to be pushed for a choice to be made. The kid studied the whole operation very thoroughly then ran back to her mom for assistance.

What is it child? the tired mother asked. Her daughter, with a fist in her mouth pointed at the machine. You need help? baby girl nodded her blonde head. Both walked over slowly. Hand in hand. The child leading the way. Point to what you want baby girl, the mom said. A bag of ranch style potato chips with a cowboy hat on the package was her choice. You sure now? she asked. The kid nodded her head again in an exaggerated way. Alright then, the mother said. Let’s push some buttons.

Mom held the child up to the panel with one arm. She guided the child’s finger with her lined hand. A 12, the mom said as they pushed on the keys, watching the bag fall from the rack. What is that? she asked her daughter. What is that? both had their mouths wide open. Get it now, she put baby girl on the floor. Go on, get it, the girl pushed open the shoot and grabbed her chips.

Good job baby girl, mom said. Good job. They shared the goods as they watched dirty laundry being tossed in the water. It was another Saturday morn.

Published by:

dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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