“You lost all your money investing in what?” the barman quipped
“What kind of coin is that? Guess you should try throwing one of ‘em, in the old wishing fountain in the woods”
“Old? How old?” he sits up straight.
“Since the Beaker People”
“Tell me where – I wanna go right away”
“Don’t try it Lad, unless you want to join the ghost of the barrows!”
Few months later Dartmoor museum had a new benefactor, donating several prehistoric coins and buying the south city castle.
There were no ghost in the barrows – but the fountain bed was full of coins from wishful people of more than four millennia.
Rest of the fictions are in the froggy link: