A real Story about Change

Often when I have change in my pocket I just throw it in a tray on my desk until it builds up before giving the kids the coppers and using the rest for those ever so "cheap" tolls and parking spaces. 

The thing is as I was sorting through the coins I felt a little bit dirty
I know it's a little strange to make comparisons but I found myself like a tyrant or a dictator sorting through his people.

"All the silvers and gold's separated out from the coppers"

Those of value and those of little value to the tray. Those Coppers just taking up space, over populating the tray and suffocating the gold's.

The coppers now segregated into a jar downstairs, where they stay amongst their own. 
The Gold's and the silvers are allowed to mingle freely. 
The exception of course being the 5 pence's.
These are allowed to live in relative harmony with the others unless their numbers grow too large. Then a cull is required which often leaves only a few remaining. 

A few end up with the coppers who are brand new and shiny, the rest are sent away in batches, small and unloved in the end.

There are also other area's around the house where small change tray communities grow. Often these communities are kept segregated or robbed overnight to make another community bigger.

One underground community, the "Sofa change bunch" are completely different from the rest. They live without class issues. Only the bravest and luckiest of change ever make it to the sofa, let alone enter the secret entrance to the underground cave. There, coppers and silvers and gold's live in harmony in the fluff fields and lost sock island. Occasional raids by young hands sees only a loss of small numbers which are soon replaced by the man falling asleep on the sofa when returning from the pub. 

The coppers in their isolation stay until they reach vast numbers. Then they disappear suddenly, their home briefly void of any tenants.
The Silvers come and go but have a longer life than any of the other change tray dwellers. 
The gold ones are often brief visitors, stopping only for a moment until they are called into action once more.

Look after the pennies someone cried, and no one listened……..