Nothing about the story I am about to relate has anything to do with genre fiction, unless you consider bizarre events related. But it’s a story I have to share anyway.
Last week, I returned from my trip to visit my girlfriend in England to find that the bus from the airport had stopped running minutes before my arrival. This meant I had to get a cab. The driver of said cab, however, forgot his credit card machine, and so we had to stop at a gas station so I could get cash from an ATM. This left me with $15 in my pocket.
The morning after I got home, I went to collect my wallet and so on in order to buy milk and other essentials. Upon removing the $10 and $5 bills from my trousers, the $5 decided it no longer wished to be in my possession and promptly disappeared. I searched all over the place, figuring it landed in a pile of papers, or under my file cabinet. In truth, it was not only in the last place I would have thought to look, but also the only place the darn thing shouldn’t have been able to find its way into.
While cleaning out my large luggage roller thing, I discovered the $5 bill. Why is this so strange? In order for it to end up where I found it, it would have had to fly three feet, wiggle its way into the closed-but-unzipped luggage roller thing, around the compacted clothes, and then into the middle of the pile.
So there you have it: a random, weird event in my relatively uneventful life.
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Things a $5 Bill Can Do (or, A Random Event in My Life That Violates Nature)
Nothing about the story I am about to relate has anything to do with genre fiction, unless you consider bizarre events related. But it’s a story I have to share anyway.
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