was once showering when I heard something ping and hit the floor. I looked down and saw a penny. I was perplexed but decided to keep it in my wallet for good luck.
A few years later, while at a festival, a girl in our tent woke up with a weird look on her face and said she’d had a dream about a train and someone she had to help. None of us thought much of it—people say all kinds of things after too little sleep and too many late-night drinks. But then she pointed at me, looked me dead in the eye, and asked, “Do you have a lucky penny on you?”
I froze.

I hadn’t thought about that penny in months. But yeah, it was still wedged in that tiny inside pocket of my wallet, the kind meant for coins or guitar picks. I didn’t use cash much anymore, so it had just stayed there.
I pulled it out and handed it to her without really knowing why. She held it like it was warm, like it meant something. Then she said, “I think this is meant for someone else now.”
At the time, I chalked it up to festival weirdness. Everyone’s a little woo-woo in a tent after no showers and bad sleep. But what happened later that year made me rethink everything.

A few months after the festival, I was back home in Grafton, helping my older brother, Sashan, settle some things after his divorce. He was staying in our late uncle’s run-down cottage near the river. The place had no heat and smelled like mice and old onions, but it was cheap and available. He was grateful, in his own grumbly way.
Sashan was never the spiritual type. He’s all logic, spreadsheets, and sarcastic remarks. So when he started talking about how “off” the cottage felt, I figured he was just depressed. The divorce had wrecked him—he didn’t see his kids much anymore, and his ex had moved on alarmingly fast.
But one night, I was sleeping on the pull-out couch while he crashed early in the bedroom. Around 2 a.m., I heard the screen door bang. I sat up, heart thudding.
The lights flickered.
Then I heard footsteps on the porch.
Thinking maybe Sashan had gone out for a smoke or something, I got up and peeked through the curtain. No one. Just the porch swing rocking like it had been pushed.