Odd Prompts: Toss a Coin

The first time, he was waiting for her. She'd promised to meet him on the beach for the sunrise, and with his heart doing doubletime, he'd woken early and paced along the shore. The gleam of silver had caught his eye, and he'd bent to pick it up out of sheer curiosity. The coin had done nothing for his calm. He stared at it for long moments, and then her voice, calling his name, had broken through his reverie. With the weight of it clenched in his palm, he'd gone to meet her. Later, during their walk, he'd shown her how to skip stones, and it had skipped four times before sinking out of sight. 

The second time had been years later. His son, wobbly baby hands grasping at anything, had cooed and waved the silver, sand trickling from between his fingers. His wife, taking it before it could make the inevitable journey to the mouth. Her question of him, to look at the strangeness of it. His assurance that it was a gag, or counterfeit. But look, child, how many ripples it makes in the calm water as it skips over the surface... 

The third time. The last time. The time he'd finally let the date of the coin fully sink in. His summons, to three centuries in the future. He'd evaded the calls long enough. They weren't going to give him another. He closed his hand around the coin, and turned into the wind. She was gone. it was time. 

He walked into the waves until they closed over him. 

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I was prompted this week by Leigh Kimmel with "On the ground you find a silver coin — from three centuries in the future." 

I prompted Becky Jones with "Up into glory." 

You can read the prompt responses and more at More Odds Than Ends.