A Short Story By Richard Ondicho
We had taken supper, and we were ready to go to bed. Our mother and father were sitting near the fire speaking to each other and smiling as they looked at us, “do you want to meet your grandpa or take your sister to bed?” our mother asked me, “Let’s meet grandpa,” my sister suggested, “Yes, take us to sleep with grandpa,” I told our mother.
She looked at my dad, and my dad stood up, ready to take us to grandpa. We liked our old guy because he had stories to tell.
We reached his hut, ready to be told stories. When our dad had left, our grandpa sighed, looking straight to the fire that was burning, giving the warmth to the hut, “Once upon a time, I was young.
Young and strong. I fought many in our tribal wars. I was known as the fearless warrior in our village.
The pride I had overtaken me, and I forget that I had a life to live and a dream to keep. My goal was to get into the city and explore the universe, but all I did….” he looked to the fire and sighed again.
“I lived, stayed in the village. I forgot about what I was fighting for and remained to be a village warrior. I forgot that there was something greater in front of me. My wish is that you fulfill my dream, my children,” he said as he went to sleep.
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