The endless Box of twenty-Dollar bills

"i was sitting on the floor of my old childhood bedroom with a giant cardboard box trying to pay off an overdue library fine, but inside the box was just endless stacks of twenty-dollar bills tied together with blue rubber bands. i started counting them out loud on my bed, laying them down one by one, but every time i reached twenty, the numbers in my head would just scramble and i'd forget what count i was on. the bills felt really strange in my hands too--some of them were super thick like cardboard and others were tiny like postage stamps, but i felt this weird, urgent pressure that if i didn't get the exact right total before the sun went down, something bad was going to happen. i kept re-counting the same pile over and over, getting more frustrated because the numbers kept changing from hundreds into random fractions like three-fourths and seven. then all of a sudden i was standing in a busy gas station line trying to hand the clerk a stack of wet maple leaves instead of cash, totally baffled about how I lost the box and trying to explain that i actually had the right amount just a second ago. "