I left the dime in the rental car. I went through the arm rest and wadded up the napkins. I grabbed the empty coffee cups. I took the half empty bottle of Purell and even checked to see if anything was left in the trunk. I threw it all away. But I left the dime in the cupholder. I had considered grabbing it. Stopped to think about taking it with me. Ten cents? Nah, I told myself. I’m not a rich man, but I can afford to leave a dime. It’s too much trouble. I don’t want it rattling around in my pocket with keys. What am I going to do with a dime anyway? So I left it behind. I couldn’t throw it away. And I’m feeling awfully guilty now about even thinking that way.