Whatever next? An immortal aphid?
Yes, know that you mention it, an immortal aphid it is.
(the message of that rather short story, is not to test what I can put into writing).
Well, I’ve decided to test humour and wackiness in my writing, please inform me if it was, or not (most likely the latter, I am not exactly renown for comedic values, but maybe a bit more in the wacky).
Nobody really took much thought as to what powered the fountain of youth, they only cared about its effects: beauty and youth. So when it was destroyed, nobody thought much about where the power went, just the material object that held it was shattered. But life is never about material things. It’s about a lot of things, but not that.
So after it shattered, nobody thought of the small little splash of power that danced away, before people could take as much as they could. Now, this little splash, where did it land? To whom did this power now belong?
The answer is not, exactly a whom, but closer to a what that became more of a whom with the new founded power. His home, a humble rose, which he frequently granted more beauty and youth at his will. Now the one of whom I speak, is not exactly like you or I (by which I do not mean narrator and reader, I mean human) but a green fly.
Yes, you heard me right, a green fly holds the key to immortal youth and all beauty the fountain once held, as well. But, this being still held a few grudges, he never particularly like lady birds. Many a friend of our green fly had been eaten over the course of their shortened lives. Now, these red spotted creatures eat around 5,000 little aphids in a period of five months, which the green fly did not look fondly upon. As a matter of fact, several aphids to which he cared about had lost their lives to the beasts.
When I said nobody took much thought to where the power of the fountain of youth ended up, I lied. Obviously people wanted to know, but not many sane people would guess a grudge holding green fly would posses it. However, as always, you get that one insane person who notices different things to the others. Now, where most look at the ruined stone and shattered carvings and runes of the fountains, this other looked to the green leafy walls of the garden. Where some would sigh with disappointment at the ruin, this individual looked at the flowers around it.
Now, already I expect you get the impression that this person is some kind of wacky botany expert and in many ways you are probably right, but their past is of no concern of yours and I am not at any form of liberty to tell you.
Then again, when is the main character a botanist, quite an infrequent occurrence that one? But this is me going on a tangent, I’ll return back to our bitter aphid and curious botanist.
While those like the others turned away, our botanist remained longer to admire this single rose. A large, beautiful rose at that, and strangely out of season which perked the interest of the botanist even more. Now, the botanist was surprised to see such a thriving flower hosting such a large greenfly. Little did they know that this particular greenfly was immortal and required no food to survive other than his infinite powers.
Now the botanist, even more curious, as this was the largest greenfly he had ever beheld, removed it from its slumber in the rose on his finger. Our aphid thought this was particularly impolite, and already in a half asleep fuelled consciousness started to eject lines of profanities about the botanists rudeness.
As expected, the botanist couldn’t hear the greenfly nor, unsurprisingly, was he able to understand the language to which the green fly was screaming in. So, it was hardly surprising when he flicked it off his finger onto the grass. Now the green fly was rather irritated now. How rude! He flew back up to the rose and proceeded to sit on the inside of the petal, while the botanist pottered about the flower. The greenfly muttered and pouted and occasional stuck up a particular finger with a flourish.
Now, the botanist bent down and took a deep sniff of the rose. The green fly, rather offended by the nose that stuck into his home approached it, to be sucked into a large, hairy, left nostril.
The botanist, in a fit of disgust, snorted out the aphid and squashed it between his fingers. Now, life as a fully intact youthful aphid is good, but the moment you are paralysed with your head behind your feet is certainly rather upsetting. Furthermore, the botanist now had a rather youthful looking single nostril. This certainly perplexed the botanists wife when he returned home that day, when she helped shave his growing beard and looked at the pubescent spots and the hairless inside upon his left nose.
The green fly stayed on the floor and was washed away in pieces, as the rain washed over him. As his body parts left him, the power of the fountain of youth washed away.