Weird the things you think about when you’ve got nothing to think about. I found 50 pence today outside my corner shop, I stood looking at it for a long time as several people walked on by. For some inane reason I started thinking about the journey the 50p had travelled in its time. If it could speak, what a wonderous story it could tell – In one hand, out the other, then lost, only to be found and passed on to another, never settling, always on the move.
Phew…Its a hard life being a 50 Pence.