Never Been Flying
Prologue


          The room was showered in a soft shade of milk chocolate. The bright orange flame was waving and dancing in the fireplace, with a soft hissing sound that blissfully added to the warm feeling in the house. It was again Christmas Eve, and the house was crowded as usual, especially in this room, the family room. In the wooden rocking chair by the fire sat an aged man with silver hair. His face was of a pale shade, and wrinkles carefully crawled up his unblemished face. He sat as if he and the chair belonged together, and slowly rocked back and forth, the scarlet sweater he wore was showing under the brown woollen blanket in his lap.

          The television set was turned on in the living room. Although the sound coming out of the mouth of an adorable honey coloured bear was drowned by the cheerful laughter of children gathered around it, he knew it was Winnie the Pooh that they were watching. It had been her favourite television programme, too, when she was young. Outside the wide windows, snowflakes were falling gracefully from above, dancing as the finest ballerinas on the stage of a peaceful silver world. He turned his head slowly to look into the flame that provided them warmth, smiling at the thought that slipped into his mind, those grey orbs sparkling with delight and peacefulness. Yes, she would have been pleased to see me now, living in a happy family, living a blissful life just like this...

          A small child with short golden hair ran towards him, and stopped to sit at his feet. His chubby face turned up to set his curious gaze on the old man's face. "Grandpa, could you tell a Christmas story, please?" When he received no answer, he took his tiny hands and shook grandpa's knees lightly, "Grandpa?" A woman with auburn hair walked over to the child. "Mummy," the child called out, "why isn't Grandpa answering me?"

          "Grandpa is a bit tired, sweetheart." She stroke her son's head lovingly. "Come now," she held out a hand for him, "let's find Aunt Betty and let Grandpa get some rest." The boy put his hand firmly in hers, and responded with a smile, "Okay!"

          While walking away, he turned his head back, and reached his chubby hand to Grandpa's knee, and patted it seriously, "sleep well, Grandpa," and turned to follow his mother.


Author's Note: This is from an idea that I've had for about two years now, but never came around to writing it. Then I made it into a challenge, at . Please do try it if you're interested. Anyway, somehow, it just sort of attracted me after I posted that thread, and decided to actually work on it myself. This prologue was written last year, I just changed a few things. This is exactly how I thought it would start. Hope you liked it. But don't hesitate to tell me otherwise.