To Be Young Again

This is a story about never-ending love!

He spit into the palms of his calloused hands and gave the boat a shove. A painful jump landed Horace into the seat.

Arthritic fingers carefully wound an unsuspecting worm around a sharp hook and then plunked it into the lake.

Splash!

Horace had a bite. The boat rocked. Water splashed. The harder he pulled, the harder the struggle.

Eyes closed and breathing deeply, Horace jerked the pole determinedly.

He felt himself falling. Water rushed around him. Weeds bound his arms and legs. He coughed and choked as he attempted cries for help.

Something brushed against his hand. Horace looked into the face of a beautiful woman. Long auburn hair flowed in the murky water. Smiling at Horace, tiny bubbles emitted from her red lips.

Horace rubbed his eyes. Had he hit his head? Could this be real?

The auburn-haired woman took Horace's hand and led him to the surface.

"Horace," the woman's voice dripped with sweetness. "I have watched you for many years."

Horace shook. He was unsure if it was from fright or the coldness of the water.

"Stay here with me. Be young again. Live forever," she offered.

Horace was tempted. Oh, to be young again. Free from pain, arthritis, backaches. He laughed aloud at the joyous thought.

"No. But, thank you." He refused.

Shaky hands slowly turned the key in the lock.

The aroma of fresh baked bread wafted throughout the room tickling his nose.

"Catch anything?" his wife called from the kitchen.

"Only one. I let 'er go," he smiled.

He placed a record on the old phonograph player in the corner and took his wife's hand, now spotted with age.

"May I have this dance?"

"Certainly," she giggled.

Young again? With his wife, the one he called companion, friend, lover -- he was already young.

Author's Note

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**I entered this in a local newspaper contest many years ago and received Honorable Mention.