stranger than fiction

a gentle drizzle was in the air, it wasnt going to rain and the sun wasnt going to come out, a slight cold wind was blowing, i had just got off the national express from brighton, my notes in one hand and my luggage in the other i was walking down the from the bus stop to my house, i see a seedy character approach me, one of those oily characters, you knew they couldnt afford to buy ciggarettes so they rolled up, young, poor, dirty, he came up to me, "excuse me mate, do you have a 20 pence piece?"
my reflex reponse "no, sorry" i knew i had money, and i certainly knew i had a 20 pence piece, why didnt i give it to him? was i supposed to?

earlier that afternoon:
as i was about to leave my house in brighton to head home the last thing i did was to pick up a 20 pence piece from my table, i picked it up wondering what i am going to do with it, wondering why i even picked it up,