by Rhian Waller

A maniac at the mint decided that money was pooling in all the wrong places. Finding blackmarket plastique, he embedded nanotriggers at the core of coins. The charge was carefully balanced so that the blast wouldn't be powerful enough to hurt a thrifty member of the public. While housewives' handbags blew to rags and pensioners found their penny jars pulverized, there were no flesh wounds. But businesses went ballistic, safes detonated from the inside; underground vaults imploded, folding down the foundations of banks. Cashiers brought protective glasses to work, managers panicked and pounds became hot potatoes in a capitalist boom.


Rhian Waller is currently studying Creative and Critical Writing at PhD level. She tends to have too many or too few jobs. (Her hobbies include Poi, experimenting with food, and throwing socks at annoying people on television.)