Wishing Fountain

fountain

The coin was no bigger than a dime in my hands.

It was a dime, in fact.  Wispy clouds stretched over a cornflower blue sky as I stood at the center of the park, where the wishing fountain stood.  The trickling sound of water filled the air as I considered my wish.

I wish…

I wished I had straight hair.  I wished I could talk without stumbling.  I wished I smiled more.

I wish…

I flipped the coin over and over, so small in my fingers.  I’d had a hard time finding it on the way there, hiding in some lost corner of my purse.  It was the smallest coin, but not with the least value.

I wish…

I wished something exciting would happen.  I wished I wasn’t allergic to cats.  I wished I wasn’t so afraid.

I wish…

I sighed and looked at the coin, at the head of some guy whose name I should know.  I probably slept through that part in history class.

I wish…

I flicked my fingers, sending my coin through the air.  It went up until it looked like the sky would reach out and grab it.

Then with a flash of silver, it fell.

I watched it make hardly a splash in the clear fountain as it joined the other glittering coins.  So many wishes.  Everyone’s dreams and hopes, laying inside a fountain.  Gleaming in the water, resting together.

Doing nothing.

I hadn’t gone to the wishing fountain thinking a dime in the water would make things happen.  I went there to see the coins.  To see how many people dreamed, and wished, and hoped.  I went there to add myself to their crowd, to say I’m there too.

Hands in my pockets, I turned away from my coin.  A breeze picked up, playing with my hair as I walked home.  Some things I can’t change.  That’s okay.

But some things I can.

So I will.

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