The Penny

From Savage Spear of the Unicorn

I found an old penny on the table this morning. Before I went to toss it in my Yuban coffee can of old change, I had a premonition. If this penny was from the year of my birth, then…

I looked.

It was.

Then what? Is today the day I die? Will I go to hell? Is today the day I meet my future wife? Do I finish my novel today over lunch break? What happens? Is my child I don’t know about born today? How long ago was I in Philippines? THEN WHAT?

Now what.

This happens all the time. I think if I turn the channel on the radio and a certain song is playing…. and what’s implied is some evil supernatural thing. Satan coming for me. Claiming me. For what. Or it’s my mother’s death. I’d been thinking about her. More specifically I thought about her once. Had some mental picture of her smiling for an instant while I thought about my father, who’s dead. I better see her, I thought. Yesterday I did. Then today…

The penny. The year she gave birth to me.

Now as I write this, a girl– for once– walks by in the park. With her dog. Is she my future wife? I call the dog over to the mulch pile.

It ignores me.

Is today the day my cancer forms? What is it?

Before I turn the channel on the radio, I get a premonition that if a certain song is on the new channel… and I’m afraid to think what comes next. I turn it and it’s that song. To be fair it’s never “Stevie’s Spanking” by Frank Zappa or some shit. My panic attacks about demonic torture come from Fleetwood Mac. Hell is mainstream.

But… what if it’s real

What does it mean.

What are the odds. How many years are there pennies. How many of each in circulation. What are the odds that a random penny you pick up: 1976. But then… did I find a 1976 penny, think “the year of my birth,” and keep the penny on my table? Not throw it in the Yuban coffee can? Forget this?

Maybe.

But I had that feeling. If I look at this coin and it’s the year of my birth… some portent of something. Something significant and bad. When I have this feeling it’s death or hell. Never the suitcase with $10 million.

Did I keep the 1976 penny months ago or years ago and then it got pushed out from under some old receipts when I moved stuff around to put down my stepfather’s birthday cake. That’s probably it. Or it’s Satan who will turn my car over and eat my skin in flames this morning. One of the two.

Should I call in sick from work? What will I do though, fucking play Xbox?