Who am I, you ask?
I am just your normal 70 year old grandpa sitting on his rocking chair smoking a cigar, looking back on his life, seeing everything through the fumes, everything,so vividly,through all the haze. A huge lounge, I must say for a lonely grandpa counting his last days.
It is not a normal story. A story that once was so colourful and now is drenched in black and white.
I mustered all of my energy and got up from my chair. Quiet honestly, it drained all of it.
I took a long and a deep breath and walked with a dying pace towards the large book case that had all my favourite books.
It took me a while to find it. Hoho, what do you expect from a dying old man?
I saw it.
A wave of nostalgia overwhelmed me. My eyes got damper and a wide smile came up on my wrinkled face.
It was a picture in a wooden frame. I blew the dust from it. 'Haaaa', I said with a grin on my face.
It had all of us....ALL OF US.
He came that night and started blabbering. 'Didn't he?', I said this out loud as I wiped a tear from the side of my cheek.
It is a story he told me back then when we were graduating from high school. Ali was his name.
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General FictionAn old man tells a story a friend told him once during his teen life. A story filled with drama, romance and comedy.....and magic. :D
