Fool's Gold

On the main floor of the bus station in the windy city, I was being fooled, and my deceiver was going for the gold. He was a con artist straight from the heartless streets of Chicago. He spotted me long before I saw him, but I never saw him or ‘it’ coming. I was an innocent naïve 17-year-old, straight from the Delta of Mississippi. Where I was from, no one lurked, stalked, or skimmed to take advantage of me. Like Eve in the Garden, I was alone, and an easy prey for anyone set an on evil deeds. Like Eve, I was told what to do, but the deceiver was much more clever, and twisted things around. Also like Eve, I listened to the lie of another, and before I knew it, I was believing his words and handing him a five dollar bill. He was a pretender, but I learned the hard way to discern the difference between the reality and make believe. Fast forward nearly 30 years, and the picture looks very different. By then, I had learned about a brassy yellow material that looked like gold. On a hot summer’s day, on my delivery route, I took a break on a river bank. I stood on the banks of The North Folk of The American River in California. The clever deceiver was not human, but it sparkled and looked like the real deal. I picked it up, and in a way I said, “You can’t fool me. You are ‘fool’s gold.” 11162016 PS Contest, But It Was Not Real, Lewis Raynes. Pl 8th