We all know that feeling when we find some money on the floor. It's a rush of excitement, with a little bit of naughtiness, knowing that someone has dropped a coin and you are now the rightful owner, according to the legal framework of Finder Keepers. One of the silver coins is decent, a pound is better, obviously, and hey, even a penny has the added element of a days worth of luck. But there is a point where finding money takes a turn for the worse.
It's a rare occurrence, but I have found a couple of notes on the ground in my lifetime. That once euphoric feeling turns to one of apprehension. Who drops a note? I get coins falling out of pockets, they're small, a note takes a certain kind of clumsiness. The issue lies in the value. If I lost a pound, I could get over it, but a fiver or more would leave me annoyed for a long time. So finding a note on the ground gives me that feeling of dread, because I am afflicted with empathy. Of course, if it's just a note, there's no way to identify whose it is, and asking a variety of passers by if they dropped a tenner is just a recipe for disaster. But even if I kept the money, it's like an ancient cursed idol, burning a hole in my pocket with its judgemental eyes. There's no easy way to pick up an abandoned note, it may give that rush of excitement, but it also provides a burden on my soul.
My rating: 3/5
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