A quick jump through time, fifty years into the past. I’ve earned a good living all my life and saved a lot but this will put me in debt for the remainder of my days.
I found the pub easily enough. It was a rundown dive of a place, thick with smoke. There he was, on the same barstool, just as I remembered from when I was a kid. My Grandfather.
I had a few old shillings in my pocket so stood beside him and ordered a pint, watching him knocked back whiskey. He was a mean son of a bitch. Small but dangerous. I’ve never heard a good word spoken about the man. Here was the reason my Dad had never held me, had barely spoken. Grandfather sat there like a king, making racist and sexist jokes. He sat there as he did every night, drinking while his family went hungry. I glanced at the clock, three minutes left. I clenched my fist and swung, catching him clean in the jaw. Then I casually strolled to the men’s room and locked myself in a cubicle, waiting to return to the present.
It was worth it every cent.
[amazon_link asins=’184688134X’ template=’ProductCarousel’ store=’200wordshort-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’45f8e73a-172c-11e8-a041-9309dfe77530′]