Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table

The gas station down the street charged three dollars and forty-nine cents a gallon for regular unleaded.

I put twenty dollars in the tank and let the nozzle click off on its own.

I looked at the rust spot above the rear wheel well.

The gray paint was flaking off in rough scales near the tire, but the engine idled smooth and quiet.

I could buy a brand-new quad-cab truck with leather seats and four-wheel drive before sunset.

I could buy three of them in cash today and not notice the dent in my balance.