Ch-ch-change.

Memo to the dude who lived in my apartment before me:

Attention, Michael H:

I found $2.00 in change jammed inside the washer. Four quarters, nine damned dimes, a nickel, and five pennies. Homeslice, how did you not notice this? Did you not hear the incessant jingle every time you took a load out?* Anyway, thanks for the free two bucks. Also, you really need to update the gas company as to your present whereabouts.

Coming soon: utter failures in short story publishing.


*This sounds like filthy slang for something.