Cash Karma

She was walking home from babysitting, cash rolled up in her left fist. She stretched her other arm above her head, where big green leaves hung down from strong healthy trees. Her fingers brushed their surfaces until one was caught between them. Her hand closed around it and pulled it off, bringing it down in front of her face. A wind blew by, cooling her clammy face and rustling the leaves, causing a chorus seeming to accuse her of a crime. She let the guilt that may have been roll off her shoulders and continued her stroll. The leaf she held was as big as her hand and a strong healthy green color reached all the way through its stem. She watched it for a second, and then twirled it around keeping a tight grip on her earnings. She stared at the veins of the leaf in fascination and without changing her expression she tore into it. Two of her fingers held the stem in her hand with the money and the other began to pull it apart bit by bit, dropping shreds of leaf as she walked. She ripped and tore and destroyed as she went until nothing but the stem remained. The now bare stem held no use for her so she smiled and let it fall.
Now almost home, she opened her fist to reveal a leaf in her palm. It was healthy and big with a beautiful green tint and long veins. With panic, she turned and on the sidewalk there lay bits and pieces of the bills she’d received. A strong wind blew, now numbing her face and rustling the leaves in a chorus of laughter.