The Cents That Made No Sense

Jef sat slouched over his desk, pecking away at the keys on his keyboard. No matter how much lukewarm coffee he drank, the report in front of him didn’t get any more exciting, nor did he feel any more motivation to finish it.

A rumble echoed from Jef’s stomach. He glanced at the clock on his cubicle wall next to his ‘hang in there’ kitten poster.

“2:30?” He muttered to no one in particular, stood up and stretched. “Wonder if they restocked the snickers in the vending machine,” he yawned then sauntered across the cubicle farm into to the dimly lit office kitchenette near the office door.

Browsing the old wood-paneled snack machine didn’t take much time. As always, there was only dust covered Mike & Ikes and ticktacks left in stock. Jef sighed and dug in his trouser pockets for change. Several dust bunnies and a stale, melted stick of gum later he trudged just enough change for a box of candy.

He inserted one quarter after another into the change slot, but the last quarter refused to go in. Figuring this was just his luck, he examined it to see if it was another of those Canadian quarters that had snuck by him.

Upon further inspection, Jef discovered that it wasn’t a Canadian quarter or even an American quarter. At least so he thought. Instead of whatever dead white guy was usually on the quarter, Jef found the profile of his own face wearing a crown on the back of the coin. With a closer examination, he saw the minted year of the quarter was ten years in the future.

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