Fred stares down at his frail, wrinkled body. A long white beard hangs to his navel, but the top of his head sports only a few sparse, wispy hairs. His joints ache and his back feels inexplicably sore. He tries straightening up, but finds it too painful. He takes several minutes to try to collect his thoughts, but finds it harder than it should be. What was that mermaid's name? He can't quite recall, but boy was she a pretty young thing. She's the reason for his sudden arthritis. He grits his rotted teeth. Pretty or not, half-fish or not, that's no way for a lady to behave. His head feels like it's stuffed with cotton. It occurs to him that he may be going senile. "Well, Gramps," says a voice before him, and he looks down. That beautiful mermaid is floating in the water once again. "You're lucky I'm so nice. I've decided to do you a good turn.
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7/12/2015 11:44:40 PM
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