Dear money

Dear money

Dear Money, I hope you are well.  I wrote my first cheque today in fifteen months and I realised how little we see of each other these days.  I must admit that there was a small tear in my eye when I thought of all of the good times that we spent together.

I know that you write to me every so often to tell me where you have been and how you are doing.  I get the occasional email from you saying I need to move you about but it’s not the same.

I remember the first time that I ever really took notice of you.  I was quite young and my father introduced us.  You were wearing your ten shilling suit. You were brown and handsome, as big as a broadsheet.  It was then that I new that I wanted to spend more time with you.  Do you remember it too?  Probably not, those were the days before you were decimalised.  Real money as my parents used to say.

Later, when I started working, we’d meet up every Thursday.  You would arrive in a small brown envelope with a semi-opaque window which would invite me, teasingly, to admire the contents.  We would go everywhere together, you in my pocket and me with my hand always on you.  I had to watch you mind as you were always wanting to get involved in some sort of mad cap scheme, or exchange yourself for drink, or food or the latest record.

We visited places together I could never have gone without you, swanky hotels, fancy restaurants and luxury foreign holidays.  But even then I was aware that we were drifting slowly apart.  Everyday, a little piece of you would leave me until eventually we hardly spent any time at all in each others’ company.

I know that you have a much wider circle of friends now, mortgages, pension funds and of course the direct debits.  You are big in the city and have gone global, following the sun as markets open and close.

I often sit late at night catching up on your exploits through the wonders of the internet.  I’ve watched you gaining strength only to crash from depression.  It looks like you are recovering from your latest problems and I hear that the quantitative easing is helping.  I just hope that you are happy and not working yourself to death.

It’s sentimental I know but I keep a few reminders of you in my pocket still, only a few coins, a couple of quid as a keepsake.  When I feel them jangling in my pocket they bring back such happy memories.

Anyway, I’ve got to go now.  I too have other places to be but please write back soon.  Who knows, when we have a bit more time, like when I retire, we could get back together again for old times sake.

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