The Chocolate Treasure

The fluorescent light gleams across its surface, catching her eye immediately. She lifts her chin, feigning disinterest. At my sunglasses rack, she tries on the plastic frames, peers into the mirror, raises a brow. The girl wears innocence frivolously.

Underneath the shaded lenses, she watches her target. The donation box is heavy with coins, my handwritten note peeling off.

$2 to guess the number of chocolate eggs in the jar!

Those big eyes of hers swelled last night, when I unlocked the box with the key which hung beind me, and emptied the money into my register.

“Aren't those donations for charity?” she'd asked.

“S‘cuse me! ‘Undred of ’em.” A boy pushes a coin into the box, chewing gum open-mouthed.

“Name, contact?”

“Ah shoot… I put me home coin in. Wrong currency sir. Can I get it back?”

As I turn to grab the key, realisation strikes. I spin on my heels, surprised to find my treasure remains. His hand darts in and out, and off he goes… without reentering the competition. My heart would sink if I wasn't so angry. Outside, she pays the boy with a large chocolate egg from my glass jar held in her dainty hands.