Harold sat at the picnic table at Coney Island looking over at the old Steeplechase ride. He flashed back to his youth when he would spend his summer days riding that roller coaster. But he had to face the fact that his youth was gone and, between his vertigo and his bad back, he could no longer enjoy rides like that anymore.
He noticed the Nathan’s sign and remembered those classic hot dogs and fries. Oh how he craved them. But not anymore. Not with his acid reflux.
It’s a shame, Harold thought, that youth is wasted on the young.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Roger Bultot.