The Rainbows

“Which one, oh, which one to follow?” the fortunate girl murmured for the umpteenth time. “Which one should I follow to the end?”

Ahead of her stretched a rainbow, bottom heavy with gorgeously intense violets and blues; beside it glowed another that was to all purposes a radiance composed of golden tones. A little to the left was so solid a band of colours that it was almost palpable; a little to the right, an otherworldly shimmer of ethereal gossamer.

All told there were about a dozen rainbows.  

The fortunate girl had been standing on the same spot for ages.  Perhaps for a good reason—

“Oh! I’ll never be able to decide!” she cried, head upraised, gaze moving from one rainbow to the other.

But eventually she did take a hesitant step – and promptly stumbled over something.

“Darn rock!” she said as she fell to the ground.

The next moment her eyes alit on the ‘rock.’  It was a pot of gold.

“No! It can’t be – but— I was standing at the end of a rainbow all along!”