Getting older, he had come to realise, simply meant that things never got
better. But it was his birthday and he was damn well going to get out of bed
today, even if he hadn’t yesterday.
He swung his legs out onto the floor, gingerly testing his weight on them. His right knee yelled back that something was wrong. A persistent old injury.
Old people didn’t fall apart like people joke, it was more that nothing ever healed properly. It hadn’t for a long time. He had twisted that knee catching his son jumping out of the treehouse. That kid shot up so fast, it seemed like he grew bigger every breath he took. Funny, he hadn’t thought about that treehouse in years.
Taking a step his left big-toe howled. An even older malady, maybe 70 years, bent it backwards playing barefoot soccer at a BBQ and it never healed right. They were good times. He missed those friends and those drunken days.
These war wounds flared with every step, reminding him of years past. Centurion mourned all his fallen friends with a sigh, it was his 100th birthday and with the next step he felt every day of it.
He swung his legs out onto the floor, gingerly testing his weight on them. His right knee yelled back that something was wrong. A persistent old injury.
Old people didn’t fall apart like people joke, it was more that nothing ever healed properly. It hadn’t for a long time. He had twisted that knee catching his son jumping out of the treehouse. That kid shot up so fast, it seemed like he grew bigger every breath he took. Funny, he hadn’t thought about that treehouse in years.
Taking a step his left big-toe howled. An even older malady, maybe 70 years, bent it backwards playing barefoot soccer at a BBQ and it never healed right. They were good times. He missed those friends and those drunken days.
These war wounds flared with every step, reminding him of years past. Centurion mourned all his fallen friends with a sigh, it was his 100th birthday and with the next step he felt every day of it.
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