The Last Penny (story) He was at his usual corner. Guitar tuned up and voice, warm. A little bucket was set up in front of him. People passing by, some making eye contact. Some, not. A few would toss some paper bills into his bucket. One little girl, about five, listened with rapture to his street corner serenade. He smiled at her and sang the next song directly to this little audience of one. When he was done, she whispered something to her father, who nodded, and the little girl came up, reached out her hand. A shiny copper penny fit snug in the palm of her hand. “The last one,” is all she said, and he took the coin and tucked it into his shirt. As he got ready for the next song, he felt the weight of the gift in his pocket.