The fountain of youth, Part 1.

What horrors the mirror offers me.

Where did that Adonis of youthful beauty go, to be replaced by the sad hessian sack that looked back at me?

“How did this happen?” I ask the mirror.

The old man responded, “Maybe all that good living.”

…oh yeah. Can hardly complain about that. But now I’m old and ugly. What do I do about that now?

"The Fffff-" said the old man before being cut off by my phone ringing. Either he was about to tell me where to find the fountain of youth or had some choice words about being called ugly. Not sure. I answered the phone - Evangeline wanted to meet up for a word or two. Or possibly a few thousand.

“Oh yes this is exciting so much we can do together I have ideas for my website say do you use moisturiser? A bit dry there. I like steak. Do you want me to fix those bags under your eyes? See these pictures of my dad- What did you think?”

The week earlier Evangeline had shown us the effects of her lotions and potions to use on her dad's skin. I said that the lighting was different so I couldn't tell.

By now Evangeline had snapped off a few photos of me on her phone, and showed me. There was the sad old man again, looking like crime scene evidence.

“Yeah, ha ha, well it would be better if I had done just one side of his face for a few weeks, make that look young again and compare it to the other side, but really, who would do that?”

My baggy eyes widened. I looked at the old man on her phone, who looked back, mouthing the words, “Do it! Do it!”

“…alright, I’m in.”