It was just another slow Saturday when I wandered into the dimly lit laundromat on Maple and 3rd. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, and the buzz of the dryers lulled me into a daze. I was down to my last pair of socks, which meant it was laundry day, like it or not.
That’s when I saw it. The vending machine in the corner. It hadn’t been there last week.
It was sleek, glossy, too modern for a place still stuck in the ’90s. The touchscreen glowed softly, a pulsing blue that somehow seemed… alive. I walked up to it, intending to grab a bag of chips, but as I neared, the screen blinked and changed.
“Hello, Jordan,” it read. “Care for something new today?”
I froze. No one was around. I hadn’t touched a thing.
My thumb hovered above the screen. Curiosity beat out caution. I tapped it.
A new screen appeared with only one option: “TRY ME.” The image was a small foil packet with no branding, just the word Surprise in playful script.
What the hell, I thought. I tapped it again. The machine whirred, and the packet dropped with a satisfying thunk.
I picked it up, tore it open—and found a small silver coin inside. On one side, an intricate design of an eye. On the other, a message engraved in tiny script: “Heads, you change. Tails, the world changes.”
I flipped it.
It landed heads.