Percy pushed the spade into the hard, cracked earth, gritting his teeth. His hands were blistered and cut in places, making his job agonising as well as long and tedious. He shovelled a pile of the crumbling earth onto the ever growing stack to his left. Percy wiped his brow, leaning on the rusty spade. He sighed, and was about to resume his work when he saw something glint at the bottom of the pit. He frowned, and bent down to pick it up. He reached into the hole, and got hold of the item. It was wedged in the ground. He twisted it, tugging, and within a few seconds it was in his palm. He sat cross-legged on the grass, brushing soil off the object. It was a bronze coin, about the size of a medal. It was clearly old, but Percy could just see a eagle on one side, and a snake on the other. He studied the curious coin, picking off bits of dirt with his grubby fingernails. He then wiped it on his shirt. It was a lot clearer now, and he could make out one faded word etched on the rim of the coin: Double. He didn’t know what that could mean, but he pocketed the coin and reluctantly resumed his work.
When Percy got home, he took out the coin again. He didn’t think it was a coin used for currency, because they usually had pictures of people on, and writing saying how much it was worth. He tossed it in the air, and watched it flip. He caught it in his left hand, and felt something fall into his pocket. He swivelled round to see if there was someone behind him, but other than him there was no one in the house. He slipped his hand into his pocket, and fished out a silver coin. He frowned. He had no money other than what he earned for gardening- which was little- and he had put his one silver coin under his bed...
Percy rushed upstairs, and crawled under his poorly constructed bed. He found his little wooden box, opened it, and sure enough, there was his coin. He put the two silver coins next to each other, confused. Then he flipped the bronze coin in the air again, and caught it. He checked his pockets, and, there were two more silver coins. He grinned in disbelief. No way. Double. Could this coin really- double his wealth? He tossed it again, and four coins clattered to the floor. He laughed, scooping up the silver, amazed. If he kept this up, he’d be rich. Rich. He, Percy, the poorest boy in the village, would be richer than the king in no time! He’d never have to dig another stupid hole again, never have to weed another garden hour after hour- never have to do anything. He turned the coin again and again, silver pouring down like rain all around him, and he laughed- a mad hysterical laugh as he flipped the coin, growing richer and richer as his sanity slipped away.
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