*Okay everybody, I have decided to just go ahead and make this fiction (which it kinda is anyway) even though it's in poem form. Life will be easier this way. Hope you enjoy!*

They sell fruit in the markets, and bread.
Fish, too, and all the usual things.
But then there are some corner booths in the shade.
And they have a lot in jars,
a lot in tightly shut pouches.
A penny for this, a nickel for that... I dig in my pockets every time,
my useless change suddenly full of worth.