Grandpas Never Die (a one-shot)
Feb. 6th, 2020 01:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aldersprig“I have been through seven Grandmas now.”
Grandpa’s voice sounded tired. He looked tired. He didn’t look all that much older than he had back then, but it had been seven grandmas.
It was a good song. It was clever, it was easy to sing, and it got me on the Billboard top ten. Raked in the money on iTunes. Seriously, it made me nice money, got my name out there.
The problem was, I sang it for the wrong person, or maybe in the wrong place, or maybe both.
I’m still not sure which, but what I do know was it that one stage, in Springfield, packed audience but not that big of town. I got through the end of I Wish and somewhere in the back of the audience a woman stood up. I mean, everybody was already standing, and all of a sudden there she was taller than anyone else like she was standing on their shoulders. At the time, it seemed to make sense.
And she said – damn I will still remember her face to this day – she said
Mirrored from Alder's Grove Fiction.
