Non-Fiction, Truth about Roots

Three Coins…

A Short Story which captures a #BlueButterflyTrail moment.

Why not make this your Friday Read, it might make you feel just a little bit more generous, or maybe not!

It was on a Saturday in June 2016 that I would be sent down memory lane. I could see the world I remembered as a child and a young adult, the land was shifting around me, it was all beginning to change. Roads were been replaced, and fixtures were being fitted around the old traditional toilets, as always, they were set deep within the ground at the front of the City Hall relic, I mean Heritage Building!

We continued to walk through the City Centre my family and I. There was so much activity taking place around us, from the construction of the roads, and pavements, to the movement of traffic. The one way road that cut through the pedestrian corridor was walled with red plastic railings. 

We were heading from the Ferens Art Gallery over toward King Edward Street through a man-made pathway created for pedestrians safety. 

The sound of guitar music echoed from up ahead and we all discussed where the tunes were coming from. The chords of a guitar seemed to mimic our moves, and we all walked in time to the melody.   The music become louder still, when we spied a busker on the steps of a monument. He was without a crowd, sat all alone, strumming his thumb, never looking up.  He only looked down at his guitar case filled generously with small coins.

Alex had been carrying his pocket money with him all afternoon, he had taken three pounds out with him.  I had said “It wouldn’t buy much, but take it and see what you might find.” He had already chosen to buy himself a drink and a key-ring; he had bought a father’s day card too, he had three coins left, two fives and one ten pence coin.

As he counted his coins in the flat of his hand. His face beamed with relief, for he had money to give.  He took the five and a ten pence coin without hesitation throwing them into the open guitar case. The busker didn’t look up. No words or nod of thanks, but I could see this didn’t matter. Alex took a deep breath of satisfaction and closed the lid of his money tub, he rattled the single coin, then returned the tub into his rucksack, we walked on.

I asked Alex why he saved a single coin and he replied.

“There may be someone else who needs it further on!” He smiled.

Thank you for reading.

By a very proud parent.


Written June 2016, published as a Blog February 2017

1 thought on “Three Coins…”

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