My Great Grandfather: A Narrative Fiction

I couldn’t believe that I was stuck in boring old Pulaski, Virginia. What a perfect place to run out of gas on the annual trip from West Virginia to Florida. I had assumed that I would just lay out at the local all night pub. But as soon I entered the establishment, an old man greeted me at the door and he blocked my entrance. He said he wanted a chance to tell an outsider about the story of his great grandfather, Jack Jackson. I said “Hold on”, walked to the nearest booth and sat down, and ordered a drink with a side of hush puppies. The stranger then sat down with me and started his grandfather’s story. He said his name was Joe Joey and how great it was to see that a youngster like myself would be interested in hearing his great grandfather and something about how we need to appreciate our elders, but the only reason I was staying was because he offered to pay for my meal and didn’t want to rile him up. …show more content…
He was working as a traveling merchant from Clintwood to Arlington, selling whatever he could stumble upon in this here fine state.” he said. “One day, in the backwoods near Floyd, which if your ever near make the greatest Possum pie south of Arkansas”, he exclaimed breaking character, “But lets get back to jack, he found a nice old couple, which the only thing that stood out to him was a gray polished horn of some type on the wall behind them, who offered to sell him a couple of Blue eggs, which they called Blue horned eggs for only a buck each. He snatched these up, as even one of these could fetch a pretty penny.” He stopped suddenly and stared at me, most likely wondering if I was even paying