Pedestrian (noun): ordinary or dull

The fountain spirit loved people.

Nobody could see it, but whenever people cast coins into the bubbling waters, their dreams and wishes appeared as little shimmers of iridescent rainbow that hover and drift at the surface.

A little girl ran up to the smooth marble platform, her small fist clutching a dollar coin nearly as big as her palm. Her smile was as bright as the silky sun. With no small amount of sass, she flung it into the fountain, the coin’s surface briefly catching the sun before it splashed.

I wish to eat eggs for dinner.

The fountain spirit grinned from beneath the cool water and reached for the new sphere of warm light that leapt from her wish. Granted.

It could still hear her skipping footsteps when another dreamer stepped up with their offering. A young man, probably a college student from the book bag across his waist, held his quarter deeply for a moment with his eyes closed. Then dropped it.

I hope she likes sunflowers.

At this, the spirit squealed with joy. It had never felt love before, but the pink-dappled glow that emerges from these wishes seemed charming and joyful, as if someone was reaching an invisible hand to caress its cheek. It touched the ball of light eagerly. Another wish granted.

People did not wish for big things. When they throw their spare change into the marble fountain, their hearts are always yearning for something simple. They did not ask to change the world, did not ask to reverse the irreversible. The modesty of each dream was enough for the fountain spirit’s heart.