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“Wealth,” said the old man calmly, “is not the key to happiness.” He shuffled slightly in the large wooden seat in which he sat and pulled his solid looking walking stick onto his lap. “I learnt this lesson back in the old days, where the was scarcely enough money to feed the family.” He sucked thoughtfully on his pipe and a soft cloud of tobacco smoke was released and drifted gently upwards. “We were happy but we had hardly a penny to our name,” the old man shuffled again altering his position against the solid backrest of the chair, “when I was young I thought riches would make me happy,” he paused, “I always dreamed of being a millionaire and having a fancy car and a big house.” He removed the pipe from his mouth to cough heavily before continuing. “I changed my mind on the matter the day we met Stanley McGee. My brother and I were out in the hills exploring, it was in the days before television or radio and had nothing else to entertain us. We knew the hillside well as we were there every day without fail, exploring and searching for treasure.” The corners of the old man’s mouth lifted up to form a fond smile. “One day we decided we would go over the hill and onto the moors where our old man forbade us from going, God knows we were only young and now I can see his concern. Those moors were dangerous land with rabbit traps and rocky ledges and we could have quite easily fallen or gotten lost on them. But we didn’t, we made our way over the cold moors in search of something better than the hillside which we knew so well, and by God we found it. It was a concealed opening in the side of the rocky moor side that led to everything we never dared to imagine.”
The old man sucked again on the stem of his old pipe and blew another smoky cloud up into the air. “We moved into the opening, a cave I suppose it was, a few steps in and it was black as the night sky; you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face! We felt our way along the cold walls of the cave, my brother and I did, until we heard something that made our hearts stop dead.” The old man rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, “Footsteps,” he continued, “we heard the soft sound of footsteps ahead of us, but knew we were the only ones in the cave, or at least we thought we knew we were.” He paused. “Being the oldest I led my brother further into the cave, telling him not to be afraid, but in reality I was probably more scared than he was.” The old man placed down his pipe on the round table next to his chair and picked up a glass containing a glistening brown liquid, which he sipped thirstily. He let out a satisfied, “Ahh” before continuing. “We carried on through the cave for what felt like hours until finally a glimmer of light caught our eyes. Ahead of us was a rounded cavern with a small but distinct fire in the middle, flames rising up and casting all manner of shadows of the grey walls. We cautiously moved forwards and to see the figure of a man hunched next to the fire; flames almost licking his long hair. We hadn’t made a sound but he knew we were there and in a soft voice said ‘Sit down with me, won’t you?’ We made no reply but seated ourselves on the floor next to the fire. He looked up at us from across the fire, little sparks of excitement dancing in his eyes and a smile spread across his face. ‘You’re the first visitors I’ve had’ he announced to us in the same steady voice.”
The old man returned the pipe to his lips and chewed thoughtfully on the stem for a few seconds before continuing, “We didn’t know what he meant at first, until he told us his story.” He paused. “He said he was in the army and fought in the great battle, he was a lieutenant I think, or was it a general? Anyway it doesn’t matter, he held high rank and was respected by many people, all until he simply refused to fight. He told us he had an epiphany and he saw the truth, and after this moment he never fought again. The folks in the army were not best pleased at him and branded him an abandoner and coward. He lost all the respect he has gained from valour on the battlefield and was sentenced to death by firing squad. They kept him in confinement for a week without food or water, but instead of yelling and thrashing like I would have done, he prayed. He prayed for the other men to see he had done no wrong and to find error in their own ways. His prayers were answered when one of the soldiers responsible for guarding him, a young man who once served under him as a private, put his neck on the line and helped his escape.”
The old man leaned back in his seat and stretched his knotted old joints before he continued. “The escape went as planned, the private helped him escape into the wilderness late one night and it was early the next morning before anyone even noticed he had gone. He evaded capture for weeks until they gave up looking, assuming he was dead. He told us he had in fact been hiding in that very cave where we sat listening to him. ‘It was 15 years ago,’ he said, ‘and this has been my home ever since. Nobody in the world knows I exist except you two lads. I am no longer registered on any forms; I’m not just an address on an envelope or a name on a list. I am dead to the world, not a slave to the economy, and I have never been happier.’
Again the old man shuffled in his seat and paused a short while before returning to his tale, “We left the cave after this story, thanking the man for sharing his tale with us and promising to return to see him soon. We returned home to our father and asked him if he knew of a man who stopped fighting in the army and escaped. He told us he knew of old Stanley McGee, the son of a Lord who joined the army not by conscription but out of dedication to his country. Our father laughed, telling us he was rich and was stupid to join the army with all that wealth behind him. He went on to tell us that Stanley McGee was a coward who refused to fight any more and was sentenced to death, but managed to escape. He said by now he would be long dead as no man could survive out in the wilderness on their own.”
The old man yawned broadly and toyed with his large straggly beard before speaking once more. “Stanley McGee had his own epiphany and lived by it, because to him, following it was more important than any amount wealth in his pocket or any amount of medals pinned across his chest. It is about following your heart rather than your head for once. Everyone has an epiphany at one time or another, it is just a matter of listening to it.”
The old man smiled lovingly at his grandson who sat cross-legged on the floor looking up at him with his twinkling little eyes. “You’ll have your own epiphany one day, my boy,” said the old man pleasantly, “but as for now, it is time for bed.”
The old man sucked again on the stem of his old pipe and blew another smoky cloud up into the air. “We moved into the opening, a cave I suppose it was, a few steps in and it was black as the night sky; you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face! We felt our way along the cold walls of the cave, my brother and I did, until we heard something that made our hearts stop dead.” The old man rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, “Footsteps,” he continued, “we heard the soft sound of footsteps ahead of us, but knew we were the only ones in the cave, or at least we thought we knew we were.” He paused. “Being the oldest I led my brother further into the cave, telling him not to be afraid, but in reality I was probably more scared than he was.” The old man placed down his pipe on the round table next to his chair and picked up a glass containing a glistening brown liquid, which he sipped thirstily. He let out a satisfied, “Ahh” before continuing. “We carried on through the cave for what felt like hours until finally a glimmer of light caught our eyes. Ahead of us was a rounded cavern with a small but distinct fire in the middle, flames rising up and casting all manner of shadows of the grey walls. We cautiously moved forwards and to see the figure of a man hunched next to the fire; flames almost licking his long hair. We hadn’t made a sound but he knew we were there and in a soft voice said ‘Sit down with me, won’t you?’ We made no reply but seated ourselves on the floor next to the fire. He looked up at us from across the fire, little sparks of excitement dancing in his eyes and a smile spread across his face. ‘You’re the first visitors I’ve had’ he announced to us in the same steady voice.”
The old man returned the pipe to his lips and chewed thoughtfully on the stem for a few seconds before continuing, “We didn’t know what he meant at first, until he told us his story.” He paused. “He said he was in the army and fought in the great battle, he was a lieutenant I think, or was it a general? Anyway it doesn’t matter, he held high rank and was respected by many people, all until he simply refused to fight. He told us he had an epiphany and he saw the truth, and after this moment he never fought again. The folks in the army were not best pleased at him and branded him an abandoner and coward. He lost all the respect he has gained from valour on the battlefield and was sentenced to death by firing squad. They kept him in confinement for a week without food or water, but instead of yelling and thrashing like I would have done, he prayed. He prayed for the other men to see he had done no wrong and to find error in their own ways. His prayers were answered when one of the soldiers responsible for guarding him, a young man who once served under him as a private, put his neck on the line and helped his escape.”
The old man leaned back in his seat and stretched his knotted old joints before he continued. “The escape went as planned, the private helped him escape into the wilderness late one night and it was early the next morning before anyone even noticed he had gone. He evaded capture for weeks until they gave up looking, assuming he was dead. He told us he had in fact been hiding in that very cave where we sat listening to him. ‘It was 15 years ago,’ he said, ‘and this has been my home ever since. Nobody in the world knows I exist except you two lads. I am no longer registered on any forms; I’m not just an address on an envelope or a name on a list. I am dead to the world, not a slave to the economy, and I have never been happier.’
Again the old man shuffled in his seat and paused a short while before returning to his tale, “We left the cave after this story, thanking the man for sharing his tale with us and promising to return to see him soon. We returned home to our father and asked him if he knew of a man who stopped fighting in the army and escaped. He told us he knew of old Stanley McGee, the son of a Lord who joined the army not by conscription but out of dedication to his country. Our father laughed, telling us he was rich and was stupid to join the army with all that wealth behind him. He went on to tell us that Stanley McGee was a coward who refused to fight any more and was sentenced to death, but managed to escape. He said by now he would be long dead as no man could survive out in the wilderness on their own.”
The old man yawned broadly and toyed with his large straggly beard before speaking once more. “Stanley McGee had his own epiphany and lived by it, because to him, following it was more important than any amount wealth in his pocket or any amount of medals pinned across his chest. It is about following your heart rather than your head for once. Everyone has an epiphany at one time or another, it is just a matter of listening to it.”
The old man smiled lovingly at his grandson who sat cross-legged on the floor looking up at him with his twinkling little eyes. “You’ll have your own epiphany one day, my boy,” said the old man pleasantly, “but as for now, it is time for bed.”
Cheers to everyone who took the time to read it. It was me trying out writing a decent lengthed peice of writing without resulting in me mumbling about "bloody kids" or going all poetic or political. I think it worked!
the_aoe_slaught wrote:
> Oh come on, havn't you ever read a book
Books are for people too lazy to watch the video...
I lernt all my enlish frum Tv and it aint dun me know harm!
> Oh come on, havn't you ever read a book
Books are for people too lazy to watch the video...
I lernt all my enlish frum Tv and it aint dun me know harm!
Craddock's wrote:
> I can't read it because its tooo long,
Oh come on, havn't you ever read a book
'Twas good.
> I can't read it because its tooo long,
Oh come on, havn't you ever read a book
'Twas good.
Fantabulous.
Thanks to those of you who read it... two of you then, lol.
I can't read it because its tooo long,
did you write that yourself? very good
Good one. I liked that a lot.
“Wealth,” said the old man calmly, “is not the key to happiness.” He shuffled slightly in the large wooden seat in which he sat and pulled his solid looking walking stick onto his lap. “I learnt this lesson back in the old days, where the was scarcely enough money to feed the family.” He sucked thoughtfully on his pipe and a soft cloud of tobacco smoke was released and drifted gently upwards. “We were happy but we had hardly a penny to our name,” the old man shuffled again altering his position against the solid backrest of the chair, “when I was young I thought riches would make me happy,” he paused, “I always dreamed of being a millionaire and having a fancy car and a big house.” He removed the pipe from his mouth to cough heavily before continuing. “I changed my mind on the matter the day we met Stanley McGee. My brother and I were out in the hills exploring, it was in the days before television or radio and had nothing else to entertain us. We knew the hillside well as we were there every day without fail, exploring and searching for treasure.” The corners of the old man’s mouth lifted up to form a fond smile. “One day we decided we would go over the hill and onto the moors where our old man forbade us from going, God knows we were only young and now I can see his concern. Those moors were dangerous land with rabbit traps and rocky ledges and we could have quite easily fallen or gotten lost on them. But we didn’t, we made our way over the cold moors in search of something better than the hillside which we knew so well, and by God we found it. It was a concealed opening in the side of the rocky moor side that led to everything we never dared to imagine.”
The old man sucked again on the stem of his old pipe and blew another smoky cloud up into the air. “We moved into the opening, a cave I suppose it was, a few steps in and it was black as the night sky; you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face! We felt our way along the cold walls of the cave, my brother and I did, until we heard something that made our hearts stop dead.” The old man rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, “Footsteps,” he continued, “we heard the soft sound of footsteps ahead of us, but knew we were the only ones in the cave, or at least we thought we knew we were.” He paused. “Being the oldest I led my brother further into the cave, telling him not to be afraid, but in reality I was probably more scared than he was.” The old man placed down his pipe on the round table next to his chair and picked up a glass containing a glistening brown liquid, which he sipped thirstily. He let out a satisfied, “Ahh” before continuing. “We carried on through the cave for what felt like hours until finally a glimmer of light caught our eyes. Ahead of us was a rounded cavern with a small but distinct fire in the middle, flames rising up and casting all manner of shadows of the grey walls. We cautiously moved forwards and to see the figure of a man hunched next to the fire; flames almost licking his long hair. We hadn’t made a sound but he knew we were there and in a soft voice said ‘Sit down with me, won’t you?’ We made no reply but seated ourselves on the floor next to the fire. He looked up at us from across the fire, little sparks of excitement dancing in his eyes and a smile spread across his face. ‘You’re the first visitors I’ve had’ he announced to us in the same steady voice.”
The old man returned the pipe to his lips and chewed thoughtfully on the stem for a few seconds before continuing, “We didn’t know what he meant at first, until he told us his story.” He paused. “He said he was in the army and fought in the great battle, he was a lieutenant I think, or was it a general? Anyway it doesn’t matter, he held high rank and was respected by many people, all until he simply refused to fight. He told us he had an epiphany and he saw the truth, and after this moment he never fought again. The folks in the army were not best pleased at him and branded him an abandoner and coward. He lost all the respect he has gained from valour on the battlefield and was sentenced to death by firing squad. They kept him in confinement for a week without food or water, but instead of yelling and thrashing like I would have done, he prayed. He prayed for the other men to see he had done no wrong and to find error in their own ways. His prayers were answered when one of the soldiers responsible for guarding him, a young man who once served under him as a private, put his neck on the line and helped his escape.”
The old man leaned back in his seat and stretched his knotted old joints before he continued. “The escape went as planned, the private helped him escape into the wilderness late one night and it was early the next morning before anyone even noticed he had gone. He evaded capture for weeks until they gave up looking, assuming he was dead. He told us he had in fact been hiding in that very cave where we sat listening to him. ‘It was 15 years ago,’ he said, ‘and this has been my home ever since. Nobody in the world knows I exist except you two lads. I am no longer registered on any forms; I’m not just an address on an envelope or a name on a list. I am dead to the world, not a slave to the economy, and I have never been happier.’
Again the old man shuffled in his seat and paused a short while before returning to his tale, “We left the cave after this story, thanking the man for sharing his tale with us and promising to return to see him soon. We returned home to our father and asked him if he knew of a man who stopped fighting in the army and escaped. He told us he knew of old Stanley McGee, the son of a Lord who joined the army not by conscription but out of dedication to his country. Our father laughed, telling us he was rich and was stupid to join the army with all that wealth behind him. He went on to tell us that Stanley McGee was a coward who refused to fight any more and was sentenced to death, but managed to escape. He said by now he would be long dead as no man could survive out in the wilderness on their own.”
The old man yawned broadly and toyed with his large straggly beard before speaking once more. “Stanley McGee had his own epiphany and lived by it, because to him, following it was more important than any amount wealth in his pocket or any amount of medals pinned across his chest. It is about following your heart rather than your head for once. Everyone has an epiphany at one time or another, it is just a matter of listening to it.”
The old man smiled lovingly at his grandson who sat cross-legged on the floor looking up at him with his twinkling little eyes. “You’ll have your own epiphany one day, my boy,” said the old man pleasantly, “but as for now, it is time for bed.”
The old man sucked again on the stem of his old pipe and blew another smoky cloud up into the air. “We moved into the opening, a cave I suppose it was, a few steps in and it was black as the night sky; you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face! We felt our way along the cold walls of the cave, my brother and I did, until we heard something that made our hearts stop dead.” The old man rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, “Footsteps,” he continued, “we heard the soft sound of footsteps ahead of us, but knew we were the only ones in the cave, or at least we thought we knew we were.” He paused. “Being the oldest I led my brother further into the cave, telling him not to be afraid, but in reality I was probably more scared than he was.” The old man placed down his pipe on the round table next to his chair and picked up a glass containing a glistening brown liquid, which he sipped thirstily. He let out a satisfied, “Ahh” before continuing. “We carried on through the cave for what felt like hours until finally a glimmer of light caught our eyes. Ahead of us was a rounded cavern with a small but distinct fire in the middle, flames rising up and casting all manner of shadows of the grey walls. We cautiously moved forwards and to see the figure of a man hunched next to the fire; flames almost licking his long hair. We hadn’t made a sound but he knew we were there and in a soft voice said ‘Sit down with me, won’t you?’ We made no reply but seated ourselves on the floor next to the fire. He looked up at us from across the fire, little sparks of excitement dancing in his eyes and a smile spread across his face. ‘You’re the first visitors I’ve had’ he announced to us in the same steady voice.”
The old man returned the pipe to his lips and chewed thoughtfully on the stem for a few seconds before continuing, “We didn’t know what he meant at first, until he told us his story.” He paused. “He said he was in the army and fought in the great battle, he was a lieutenant I think, or was it a general? Anyway it doesn’t matter, he held high rank and was respected by many people, all until he simply refused to fight. He told us he had an epiphany and he saw the truth, and after this moment he never fought again. The folks in the army were not best pleased at him and branded him an abandoner and coward. He lost all the respect he has gained from valour on the battlefield and was sentenced to death by firing squad. They kept him in confinement for a week without food or water, but instead of yelling and thrashing like I would have done, he prayed. He prayed for the other men to see he had done no wrong and to find error in their own ways. His prayers were answered when one of the soldiers responsible for guarding him, a young man who once served under him as a private, put his neck on the line and helped his escape.”
The old man leaned back in his seat and stretched his knotted old joints before he continued. “The escape went as planned, the private helped him escape into the wilderness late one night and it was early the next morning before anyone even noticed he had gone. He evaded capture for weeks until they gave up looking, assuming he was dead. He told us he had in fact been hiding in that very cave where we sat listening to him. ‘It was 15 years ago,’ he said, ‘and this has been my home ever since. Nobody in the world knows I exist except you two lads. I am no longer registered on any forms; I’m not just an address on an envelope or a name on a list. I am dead to the world, not a slave to the economy, and I have never been happier.’
Again the old man shuffled in his seat and paused a short while before returning to his tale, “We left the cave after this story, thanking the man for sharing his tale with us and promising to return to see him soon. We returned home to our father and asked him if he knew of a man who stopped fighting in the army and escaped. He told us he knew of old Stanley McGee, the son of a Lord who joined the army not by conscription but out of dedication to his country. Our father laughed, telling us he was rich and was stupid to join the army with all that wealth behind him. He went on to tell us that Stanley McGee was a coward who refused to fight any more and was sentenced to death, but managed to escape. He said by now he would be long dead as no man could survive out in the wilderness on their own.”
The old man yawned broadly and toyed with his large straggly beard before speaking once more. “Stanley McGee had his own epiphany and lived by it, because to him, following it was more important than any amount wealth in his pocket or any amount of medals pinned across his chest. It is about following your heart rather than your head for once. Everyone has an epiphany at one time or another, it is just a matter of listening to it.”
The old man smiled lovingly at his grandson who sat cross-legged on the floor looking up at him with his twinkling little eyes. “You’ll have your own epiphany one day, my boy,” said the old man pleasantly, “but as for now, it is time for bed.”