Titleless - Will give a title when i think of one - discontinued of updates

I am an old man now.
Events of the past flash and go, leaving traces of yester times in my once working memory.

It happened so such a long time ago, I was a boy, of nine or ten.

Thinking back on the things that had happened, I have lived for so many years. I have seen my friends age and die. While I, a living testimonial of a promise I made to her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The house stood among the greenfields, facing the tranquil sea. The trees around the house swayed along with the wind. Borlo sat by his table at the window, feeling the finely carved grains on his table board, watching the sea in a blank stare, watching the ships with their flickering night light. The window shutters flopped clumsily on its hinges, as the chilly sea breeze invaded the privacy of the warm, homely cottage.

Suddenly, Borlo's eyes opened up with joy.
"Wind!", exclaimed Borlo. "Grandpa! The wind is coming in!"

"Yes Borlo." *Cough* replied a calm grandpa. "I'll put more wood into the fire."

The murmurs of the waves echoed through the house, chorused by the sighing of the willows in the wind. That night, grandpa sat in his rocking chair outside the cottage, enjoying the sea breeze. His hair danced in the wind, as the contours of his face led a smile that glistened under the watchful moonlight.

The wind eventually got the better of him, as his breathing became a little heavier.
"Sigh" *cough* mumbled Grandpa to himself. "My time is up soon."

The floorboards creaked under pressure, as grandpa forced himself to a stand. Grandpa staggered tediously into the cottage, painfully trying to make his legs listen to him.

Grandpa stared into the cackling fire, thinking of how Borlo's mother had died.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Borlo was still a little boy, when his mother died. Grandpa carried Borlo in his arms, as he smiled fondly down at him.

"Borlo, mother has gone to heaven. I will now take care of you. Be brave son." Said Grandpa lovingly, holdinb back his tears.

That night grandpa carried Borlo to sleep. He hummed a little lullaby, as he rocked Borlo in his arms.

"Poor Borlo, what will become of you when I die?" Grandpa mumbled to himself, solemnly.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grandpa stood over Borlo, running a hand over his forehead, then over his hair.
"My poor boy, what will happen to you, should I die?" Complained grandpa, as he stared fondly into Borlo's face, remorsefully, tenderly, painstakingly.

Grandpa reached over Borlo for his hands, as he held them to sleep, hugging Borlo in his embrace, placing his head down on Borlo's chest, listening to his heartbeat, listening to his breathing, feeling his chest expand and contract.

"Borlo, be brave, my son." Thought grandpa, before closing his eyes to sleep.
====================================================================================

To be continued...