It had been lying on the concrete inside the white stripe of paint that delineated the parking spot he’d taken. And when Rix opened the door to step out of his car, his left foot landed beside it. It glinted in the noon sun as if newly minted. It certainly looked newly minted, but it couldn’t be. He marked the year on the coin. It was the year he was born. Rix smiled a little and put the coin in his pocket.

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