Short Story---The Old Days Again.

Essay by dude1969dudeJunior High, 9th gradeA, April 2004

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My grandpa was sitting slumped and comfortable in his favourite chair telling me about the old days. It was always the same story with the same moral, "Jimmy back my the day we were very respectful to our elders, not like you lot." These were his exact words. Of course this would lead up to the magical solution, "All you new generation deserve a bloody flogging." Tell you now it was boring.

My grandpa, an old bloke in his nineties, still had life left in him. My dad's vivid retelling of the time when last year grandpa beat up this young bloke, knocked him out cold. Dad said that grandpa was like a tiger.

Never believed it until I saw it for myself. Yep that's right I seen grandpa do it once. Happened last month, grandpa and me, we was walking back from the shops, when suddenly this bloke in a balaclava, come up from no where, took grandpa's shopping trolley, right out of his hands.

I chased the bloke down and jumped on him, but when grandpa got there he told me to get of him, so I did. Then grandpa beat the bloke up with his stick. They're always saying you got to see it to believe it, well now I can say I did, 'cause I was there.

Grandpa was yapping on and on. I really couldn't be bothered listening, until just as I was getting up to go to the dunnie, he started to talk about the Great War. Now I knew from my history class that this was eighty-eight years ago. Now that meant that grandpa was still a boy too young too fight. Going to the dunnie didn't seem so urgent now. I wanted to hear what the old bloke...