By Carol J Wechsler Blatter
You look out the plane’s window. You see sunny lush green St. Augustine, Florida, below. You de-plane, retrieve your suitcase, sign the rental contract, and ask the agent for help finding the Fountain of Youth.
He looks at you wide-eyed. “Lady, it’s a myth. It doesn’t exist.”
“But I read it in this Florida brochure. Here. See.”
“You didn’t read the fine print.”
“Can’t believe I’ve been duped.”
It’s so disappointing! What to do now? Flee to the beach. Here you’re floating on your back in the billowy blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean. No chance for restoring your youth here.
Hi Carol,
Great story. Your choice to use second person instantly engaged my imagination and connected me to the hero’s plight. Who wouldn’t want the fountain of youth? I like the ending, how I’m left float in the waters on my back yet knowing I can’t get what I want. Brilliant!
I took it that floating in warm blue waters was the Fountain of Youth – but the narrator didn’t realise it.
Been there, drank from it, didn’t work.
Love this – I agree – floating in water was fountain. Congrats. Nicely done.