Nickels, Staplers, and Parking Lot Flames

I quit my job by setting my laptop on fire in the parking lot. Literally.

Flames. My boss called. I didn't pick up. I was eating coins. Not real ones.

Chocolate coins. But I pretended they were real. I screamed at a bird.

The bird didn't care. Nobody cares. I stole a stapler once.

Still have it. It's my most prized possession. I talk to it. It gets me.

My ex texted. I blocked them seventeen times. They keep coming back.

Like a boomerang made of audacity and lies. I'm obsessed with nickels now.

Specifically nickels. Dimes are trash. Pennies are a joke. Quarters are trying too hard.