Thank you sir

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic
Part one of a short story I am writing.

Submitted: May 20, 2014

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Submitted: May 20, 2014

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The grey sky sets the bleak backdrop of a lone bench surrounded by the frantic pace of the rundown. Faces look down at the cold leather of their worn down shoes. No one notices the old man thinking on the lightly stained bench. They are in a tranquilizing trance of modern life. Only sixty years ago this man was seen as an inspiration and a hero, but the world has changed his life remains the same as if he was stuck in the glory days.

The wrinkles on his face are barely notable over the scars on his left check, it was the price of victory it was the price that all were willing to pay, the polished piece of brass would change his life forever. None wanted to be in his presence no one wanted to help him; they all kept their eyes down staring at their tattered remains of shoes.

Hours passed, feet moved at a frantic pace but the old man remained still, He remained constant. Life has not changed from that dreaded day.  In the past this day would be a day of mourning and a day of celebration but time has passed …. Their legacy no longer lives on. On this day many years ago a country bleed and a country rose. On this day a country mourned and a country served. On this day a country gave and a country gained.  This day is sadly stuck in the pages of a history book and not honored.

A lady beyond her years walked up to the man and said “Thank you Sir, for all you have done”. The old man contemplated what the young woman said and replied in a humble tone “When I was your age men were dying for me everyday and I kept on asking myself am I worth dying for ….. but know I realize a man did not die for his brother in the trenches or his mother at home he died for the youth of the future, he died for your generation” The man grabbed a box underneath the tattery remains of the park bench. The light grey tinge on the lightly stained cardboard had a sole object inside it. The metallic latch was highly polished with the lip on the catch stained from years of closer. A sigh was relieved when the catch was released.

 


© Copyright 2020 E M Tuck. All rights reserved.

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