Deadly Drabble - Rejuvenation

What price to pay for youth?

I am told that the booths were once home to something called telephones, although no one can seem to adequately explain what those things were. It reeks of fake nostalgia to me.

Nowadays, the booths call out in bursts of brilliant neon, inviting the populace in with promises of rejuvenation. Sick, tired, or world weary? Step inside and let the neon cleanse.

I stand beneath the warm glow and let it wash over me. Who cares that it takes time as payment for a return to a fresher, invigorated self. I ask, how long do I really want to live?

Inspired by an image posted by Labyrinthia Mythweaver