**Five Faces of Tomorrow**
* Well, at least our kids will look after us in our old agethats why we had them, after all. But you, Maisie, youve really got a problem,* Nettie said with a mix of pity and amusement as she topped up Maisies glass with white wine.
The five women lounged on beanbags under parasols at a beachside bar in Brighton. The evening smelled of salt, pine, and a faint melancholy.
When her friends invited her to join them at the spa retreat, Maisie hadnt known what to expect. To her, *spa* conjured images of dated sanatoriumstrade unions, bad backs, medicinal mud, and boredom. Maybe a bit of late-life flirting if she were lucky.
But it turned out to be a modern hotel with delicious food, treatments, a proper spa, and emerald-green woodlands where they could wander for hours, listening to the whisper of pines and chasing sunbeams.
The sea, though shallow and chilly, was still a joy. Stretching in both directions along the shore were nudist beacheswomen to the left, men to the right.
The womens side amused them all. *”Well, were not doing so badly for our age!”*
The mens side, though? That earned shocked laughter.
* Oh, look at that blokeless to show than my grandson!* Lily cackled.
* And that short fellows gone the other wayvanished into the roots!* Tanya added.
* Cheers, ladies!* a mans voice called back.
They burst into laughter and hurried off, hiding their faces. Theyd forgottenBrighton wasnt *quite* abroad.
After dinner, no one wanted to leavethe treatments had left them oddly energised. Music played from the bar, the sun sank into the sea, and the conversation drifted, as it always did, to the aches of lifequite literally.
One complained of high blood pressure, another of a sore arm, a third of sleepless nights. Then came the real talkold age, the fear of loneliness, grown children with lives of their own.
Maisie tried to lighten the mood. *”Honestly, with the way the worlds going, we might not even make it to old age.”*
But her friends were in full swing now, swapping horror stories and fragile hopes.
Then Diana perked up. *”Remember when you lost me at the market two days ago? I met an old woman selling strange stones. Bought this crystal from her.”* She pulled a green-blue polyhedron with a chipped top from her cloth bag. *”She said it shows the future.”*
* Shows what?* Nettie squinted.
* The future, apparently. Her English was rough, but she said, ‘Five sessions left.’ And theres five of us. Fancy a go?*
They laughed but touched the crystal anyway.
**First vision: Nettie.**
By eighty, Nettie had been a widow for five years. She lived alone in her spacious flat, kept her spirits up, though her eyesight was fading.
Her daughter, a high-powered executive, was always busynever even had time for a family. She looked after her mother out of duty, not warmth.
One day, Nettie climbed a chair to fetch an old vase from the cupboardwanted to give it to her daughter. She fell. No broken bones, but the bruises were spectacular. Her daughter gasped and moved her in *”just for a few days.”*
White kitchen, white walls, white despair.
Then Nettie spilled tomato juice.
* Mum! Why must you meddle?!*
* Well now,* Nettie forced a smile, *at least the décors got some colour. Felt like a hospital in here.*
The joke fell flat.
**Second vision: Diana.**
Diana had raised her son alone. Everything for him, everything because of him.
He grew up, became a successful software engineer, married a German womanand handed her all the love meant for his mother.
His wife was steel-cold. The house, signed over *”for tax purposes,”* became her domain.
Diana struggled to walk, her heart fluttered, her breath caught. They *cared* for her, but with irritation.
*”Mum, dont touch that. Mum, dont interfere.”*
She hid in her room, cried silently at night, smiled again by morning.
Then she called Nettie.
* I cant do this anymore.*
* Pack your things. Move in with me. Well manage.*
And they did.
One saw poorly, the other moved slowlybut together, they coped.
They laughed at their frailty.
* Youve swept all the dust into the corners again.*
* But the middles spotless!*
Evenings were for debatespolitics, technology, happiness. They disagreed on everything, but it didnt matter.
Then theyd turn on the telly: Nettie listened, Diana described.
* Maybe its for the best I cant see well,* Nettie mused. *The worlds turned… ugly.*
* Dont be daft,* Diana said. *Were just relics. The world moves on.*
**Third vision: Lily.**
Lily had twin daughters. In old age, one took her in; the other visited with grandchildren.
The house buzzed with noise, smelled of popcorn and kids shampoo.
* Gran, is it true you were born before the internet?* a curly-haired boy gasped. *Did you see mammoths?*
* Oh yes,* Lily laughed. *And the tigers had proper fangs!*
The boy yelped and hid under the table.
Lily patted his head, thinking, *This is happinesstiny curls and all.*
**Fourth vision: Maisie.**
Maisie, a doctor, spent most of her life alone. Two divorces, countless shifts, hundreds of patients. She worked, saved for old age, knew she had no one to rely on.
When her strength waned, she chose a care homemodern, cosy, with gardens and Wednesday dances.
And suddenly, she bloomed.
Shopping trips, outings, bingo, new friends.
At the dances, a handsome neighbour with a walker once asked, *”May I have this cha-cha?”*
Maisie laughed. *”If you can keep up. Maybe start slower?”*
**Fifth vision: Tanya.**
Tanya and her husband always dreamed of a seaside home. They bought onein Thailand.
Now they had a little paradise: a local woman cooked, cleaned, helped.
Her husband had suffered a stroke, but evenings, Tanya wheeled him to the shore.
They sat, watched the sun sink into the ocean, talkedor sat in comfortable silence.
* So glad we made it,* he whispered.
* We did,* she said.
When the visions faded, the women sat quietly.
The sky turned violet, the waves murmured secrets.
* Well then,* Tanya cleared her throat, *not so bad, eh?*
* Quite the opposite,* Diana smiled. *Almost… human.*
* Even beautiful,* Nettie added. *Just fewer bruises next time. More wine to that?*
They laughed.
The waiter brought another bottle. The crystal on the table caught the sunsets glowdim but stubborn. It hadnt cracked, hadnt dulledjust turned clearer.
* Let it be,* Maisie said. *Different paths, but none too shabby.*
* Old age is still life,* Lily said, pouring herself another glass. *Just a different time of day.*
They clinked glasses, and the sea sighed in agreement.
**Lesson learned: The futures not to be fearedjust met with good company and a decent wine.**
