Gold coins. Gold coins. I was on a frantic mission to find me some gold coins. Not just shiny gold coins but the kind that are wrapped around milk chocolate. It’s about having the chocolate not the fake money. Or so I learned.
With every scrap of strength I could muster, I swiped the oil and pudgy thumb away from my forehead. The unforgiving IV that was lodged in arm sent a sharp, searing pinch up my right side to remind me that movement was for the privileged. I winced in pain, opened my eyes, and glared at the priest.