Fiction. The Grandad and the Dandelion.

By Yannets Levi, The Short Story Project

Fiction

The Grandad and the Dandelion.

By Yannets Levi, The Short Story Project

It is possible that you have lots of friends, or maybe you have only a friend or two. Your friends could be children, or they could be adults, or maybe your friends are dogs or cats or any other kind of animal. Yes, all of this could certainly be true. But have you ever had a plant as a friend? Have you ever been friends with a flower or a tree? Either way, this is a story about a grandfather who had a very special friend.

Once upon a time, there was an old man who lived alone in a small shack. The old man didn't have children or grandchildren. He didn't have a wife, nor did he have friends. He lived all by himself.

Every day at dusk, when the birds were chirping from their perch in the treetops, as the sun set and the sky grew dark, the old man would sit outside his shack and talk to the dandelion that grew in his garden.What did he say to the dandelion? The old man used to tell the dandelion old tales, so old that no one could remember if they really happened, and the dandelion would listen silently to the old man's stories.

One day, a group of children walked past the shack. They heard the old man talking and telling his stories, but they did not see anyone listening. The children stopped and stared at the old man.

"What is wrong with this old man?" they wondered. "Who is he telling stories to?" They listened closely to the old man's tales. They did not know if the stories were true or not, but they found them to be fascinating. The children remained standing there listening to the stories until the sky turned black and the old man went back into his shack.

The next day, the children returned for more stories. They remained at a distance but paid close attention. After the old man finished telling another old tale, one of the girls called out, "Granddad! Who are you telling your stories to?" "Granddad? Me?" the old man wondered. Up until then he had not noticed the children who stood there listening to his stories, and so their presence came to him as a surprise. "No, I'm not a grandfather. I am just an old man," he said. "I have no children or grandchildren. I have no wife and no friends." "So who are you telling your stories to?" asked one of the children. "I tell them to this dandelion growing down here, right next to me," the old man replied. The children looked and for the first time noticed the small dandelion growing in the old man's garden. How strange, they thought – telling stories to a dandelion. Why?