“With the end of the penny, is the clock ticking for the nickel?” — CNN
It keeps replaying in my head. It was a normal morning at a normal time, maybe ten, maybe ten-fifteen, and we were all settling down to work. People were making jokes the way they always did, “keep the change,” “turn on a dime,” “shave and a haircut,” that kind of thing.
Then the guys came in. They looked like the same guy multiplied by four: all newly pressed khaki uniforms and those damn clipboards like they were here for an audit. But they weren’t. They headed straight for Penny’s desk without any hesitation or explanation. The one in front said her name with his finger on his clipboard, like he was reading off a form letter.
Penny hardly said a word in return. She just stood up, took off her credentials, put them down on her desk, and stood. The second guy pointed at her, and she went to stand between the third and fourth guys, who led her out.
