Nickels and Dimes

Quarters, quarters, quarters.

No nickels.

No dimes.

"If I had a nickel for every time this happened..." joked Kyle to himself. The realisation of the unfortunate relation between expression and situation tore at his insides.

All he wanted was some nickels and dimes.

Kyle had been more, no more than six years before, everyone had been. The nuclear winter had ripped the world to shreds.

One of his few memories before the fallout was collecting coins worth five and ten cents.

Life had moved on, but his love for nickels and dimes lingered. That and flocked wallpaper.

Unfortunately, there were so few left.

Since quarters were more valuable, people kept them.

Nickels and dimes, however, weren't kept.

They were discarded, eroded, forgotten... but not to Kyle.

Kyle loved the nickels and dimes.

He had amassed a small collection of post-nuke nickels and dimes.

The collection was small, but it was growing.

That was his life, now.

NICKELS AND DIMES.