I have the coin between the index and the middle finger. I flip it, trying to make it travel on my hand. To make it go back to Prague.
It was the third day of the school trip, a month from the abyss of the finals. I remember I had an icecream and I had to ask for it in Czech: zmzrlina. It sucked.
Under the steeple we waited till noon for the carillon, it was loud but pathetic. After the show, I took from the rest of the lunch a ten crowns coin: “Head, we turn right. Tail, we go left.” And it decided for the right.
At every intersection we tossed the coin. It took us to the ice bar, to the suburbs, it made us cross the river and eat a very nice kebab. On the other side of the Vtlava, it pushed us to take a path that introduced us to a green park full of ducks and beautiful girls. We took a picture with the coin and the ducks (we were not brave enough to ask the girls), and it was a bad idea, because the damn beasts strongly pecked our legs.
Everybody came back from Prague with a new shirt, a scarf, some extra pounds or a broken liver. I came back with a coin that now is always with me, just in case I have to make a very important decision. It would never betray me, I’m sure.
It made me see the ducks when the lake was not frozen. Where will they go when it starts to freeze?