You put the coins in and you didn't even make a wish.
I saw the machine. It has everything. Every kind of chip, the orange crackers, the cookies with the white middle, that one with the lightning on the wrapper that grownups aren't supposed to have. It is glowing. It hums like it's alive. When I was little I thought a machine like this was the best kind of luck in the world, a whole wall of yes, and all you needed was the right coins.
You knew exactly what you wanted. You pressed the buttons like you'd pressed them a thousand times. E4. You didn't even look at the rest.
The metal curl turned and turned and held your snack right at the edge, teetering, the scariest best part, and you didn't hold your breath. It dropped. You didn't cheer. You bent down, grabbed it, and you were already walking away, looking at your phone, before it even landed.
You used to press your whole face against the glass. You used to root for the bag that got stuck. Remember? You'd shake the whole machine, laughing, sure that if you just believed enough it would fall.
You still got the lightning one, though. The one you weren't allowed. I saw that. Good.
So here's what I want to know. Next time, will you look at the whole wall for a second?
Just so you remember it's a wall of yes?