*I've started a weekly writing class. I'll update my random written stories here.
One dollar in nickels was all Tommy needed to make nickel bread with his Omma. "A few more nickels is all it'll need" Omma spurted out as she helped him stir the dough, starting to take on the colour of the nickels, making it the perfect mix of silver and dull.
"This looks just like a puddle!" Tommy squeeled as the dough was beginning to take form. In reality, the dough was beginning to look like the vomit of a slot machine.
"This might be the best nickel bread I'll ever eat!" screamed Tommy.
"It'll certainly make you shine, big guy."
"Why can't Oppa help us? Nickels were his favorite, right?"
"Right, old man, you have his coin collection, remember?"
"Of course," Tommy said as if he was always the keeper of his Oppa's possessions.
"And you know what happened to Oppa..."
"He died" Tommy repllied flatly.
Omma took a big piece of dough, rolled it in a ball and popped it in her mouth. "Perfect" She exclaimed.
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