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Trevor was a cheeky little lad. Squirt, his schoolmates called him! True to his nickname, his lifelong job involved maintaining the fountain and hosing flower beds in the park.
The day he retired, he threw a coin in the fountain and made a wish. It never came true.
On his ninetieth birthday, he went back. The fountain stopped flowing years ago. Down among the dead leaves, he found his coin.
‘It’s soiled and worthless now’, he thought, ‘a bit like me’.
He threw it back and imagined he heard a splash.
‘It’s a sign’, he said, before remaking his wish.
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Click Squirt to visit the squares!
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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers
PHOTO PROMPT © Nancy Richy
Oh blithe spirit!
Indeed! Thanks, Neil.
Beautiful in both a literal and metaphorical way, Keith. Wouldn’t you love to see him gather his tools and get the fountain burbling again?
Hope spring eternal!
I hope it comes true this time. Nice story!
Nothing more powerful than hope. An excellent parable and message, Keith.
hope is what keeps us going
Oh, I so hope Squirt’s wish comes true in the end!
If only wishes came true that easily
I am so pleased he has never given up on hope – lovely story Keith 🩷
Gotta find something to keep you going.
Strangely philosophical for you, Keith.
And excellent.