Grandma's Ashtray

The intricate ashtray plunged into the clear, cool, water. Dark thumbs rubbed at the gritty metal, removing the ash and revealing the gold flecks underneath. It was made of metal, intricately shaped into a bowl with legs and a barred top. Turning green with oxidation, it stored coins now. It had been a long time since it stored ash. It was an old tray, left to him by his grandmother, a habitual smoker who had died a few years beforehand. The boy dunking it in the water didn’t know whether this was the way to clean it, but he continued to dunk the tray. He hadn’t even known there was any gold in it before, so he assumed he was on the right track. He held the clean tray into the light where he could see it more clearly. He could now hold it without dirtying his hands. He put it back in his room and dropped shiny metal coins into it. He replaced the barred lid leaving the coins where ash once sat.