Albert Flannigan had been a portly 86 year old man, balding with bad knees and a short temper. Next time he turned 86, though, things would be different.

Albert, or Alby as he now liked to be called, was one of only 12 people worldwide to be given a second chance. A second chance at everything. He'd been chosen -- he didn't know why -- to take part in the first human trials of an age-reversal therapy developed by an international team of scientists. And it worked. He was now a man of roughly 25 again.

The therapy, which he didn't understand and didn't care to, had something to do with autoimmune biology. They'd tried to explain to him something about how the cells in one's body naturally degrade and begin attacking the body, no longer recognizing what they were attacking. Through a regimen of pills and injections these cells could be reconditioned.

Alby pretended to listen, to appear interested, but it was well beyond his mental capacity, and he knew it. Instead, he just went to the doctor's visits, swallowed the pills, and underwent tests on everything but European history. It had taken about seven months in total.

Overall, it had been a hell of a lot less painful than his hip replacement.

It didn't happen all at once, his reversion back to a healthy 25 year old, but the changes seemed to come in twos or threes, occurring first weeks apart, and then in a matter of days.

The first thing he'd noticed was an improvement in his sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep a full eight hours in 20 years or more. He'd awaken each morning by 4 o'clock after fitful, restless nights. He'd been having trouble falling asleep at night for even longer than that, and it had only gotten worse since moving to the Meadowbrook Nursing Home eight years ago. Three or four hours of sleep a night was usually the best he could do.

Then one day, a Tuesday, he recalled, he woke up at the astonishing hour of 8:47 a.m.  The feeling of being well-rested was so unfamiliar that, for a moment, he feared he was ill.

Later that same week he began to notice his appetite changing. The difference wasn't only in the amount of food he now ate, (despite his large frame, he'd eaten  sparingly these last few years), but in the things he found himself craving. Instead of his usual poached egg and buttered toast in the mornings, he started asking for ham and cheese omelets and sausage. Hamburgers and spaghetti took the place of his usual turkey on rye or chef's salad for lunch. And he could drink milk now without the fear of the gastro-intestinal disaster it used to guarantee. It got to the point where the  staff nutritionist had to put him on a diet -- and this after years of coaxing him to eat more and vary his menu.

Whether it was due to the increased sleep and diet or to the pills and therapy, he couldn't be certain, but soon Alby noticed an increase in his stamina. Where before he'd be happy to spend his days reading or watching tv from the comfort of a sofa, he suddenly found himself actually looking forward to his daily walks on the grounds. After a while he'd even taken to going out for a second or third walk in the afternoons or after dinner. Once or twice he'd actually broken into a short jog! Within days he was walking without his customary shuffle and the stiffness in his knees and hips were almost entirely gone.

Over the course of a few months, he noticed improvements in his eyesight, his breathing, and his hearing. The doctors told him he was gaining muscle mass at a rate faster than anyone else in the trial.

His appointments with the physical therapist at Meadowbrook no longer consisted of sitting on a stool bending his knees and soaking in a hot tub. Instead, they'd started shooting baskets in the gym and doing aerobics.

It wasn't long before he needed an entire new wardrobe. And he'd told the staff he didn't want any more dress pants and brown cardigan sweaters. Now he preferred t-shirts and jeans, and maybe a pair of those flashy sneakers with the stripes. 

Everyone around him found it exhausting keeping pace with the changes Alby went through. One day he was on medications for his heart, his cholesterol and arthritis, and the next he was asking the orderlies if he could borrow their iPod.

"It truly is remarkable, Mr. Flannigan," the head doctor told him at a regular daily visit some six months into the treatment. "Of all our subjects, yours is the most astounding transformation we've seen. It's almost a complete reversal."

The entire team of doctors and scientists had taken to being there for every visit with Alby. He was poked, prodded and evaluated more now than he'd ever been when he was old and sick.

But no one was more confounded at these changes than Alby. It wasn't the physical aspects that confused him -- these had been welcome, exhilirating to him -- but the feelings that went along with it were entirely unexpected. He'd started, for example, looking at some of the young nurses and health aides in a whole new way recently. Sex? He hadn't considered it in 20 years or more. Now it was like a constant whisper in his ear. Almost daily now he'd find himself looking heavenward and asking forgiveness from his Rosie - God rest her soul.

It wasn't long before he was moved out of the nursing home and into an apartment  -- under the auspices of the team of doctors in the study. As he tried to adjust to living somewhat on his own again, he wondered how he was ever going to fit in as a young man. So much had passed him by these sixty years. He didn't know a gigabyte from an mp3. He had a lot to learn.