Maud tossed a coin in the air and prepared to catch it.
She had hunted through her change purse, a sea of dimes and nickles. Her quarters had been eaten up a few days before, the increasing cost of laundromats as they held on to the quarters-only system of payment. Eventually, Maud resorted to the only loonie she had, change from the chocolate bar she bought on her lunch break.
The coin spun, rising high, falling down, and Maud held out her hand. It landed with a quiet smack, and she curled her fist around it, hoping she was quick enough that it wouldn’t bounce out and along the ground, out into the traffic around her. She was practiced, though, and the coin was safe.
Maud opened her hand, slapped it onto the top of her other hand, looked down. Heads: save the chocolate bar for tomorrow. She frowned – not exactly what she had hoped for. Not at all. She slid the coin off, back into the flipping hand. She moved it to her thumb, preparing for a best-of-three.