I watch the penny sink slowly down to the bottom as it begins joining the other forgotten words of hope. I mumble the words that I wish to come true, but as always these words become contorted and confused as time goes on. Everyone wishes something. It’s the hope that keeps these wishes alive. They flow out of the wish makers mouth just to tie themselves to a string that is grasped to ones heart. Without hope wishes would cease to exist. They would have nothing to tie themselves to and without this connection the words would sink with the throw of the penny.