That Valentine’s Day of 1982

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(February 14, 2012 is the current date)

“Hey gramps, can you tell me another story?” “Sure, this one about this exact day and about how my old job was.” “Thirty years ago on this exact day I was working for a Taxi company that I helped get put onto the business chain.” “I worked for about thirty years before this particular date and I was the one that never quit or took vacations.” “I was the one that lead the company to success and how did they treat me in the end, let me tell ya it wasn’t nice.” “On that day, I was on the clock driving to all kinds of places when I got a call to go to a street that I had never been on to pick up someone.” “When the guy got in I said where to and he said something that only one person would say, but the thing was that I hadn’t seen that person since High School.” “The thing he said was, “Shut up and drive you nimrod,’ because back in High School I would drive him and my older brother to school so that my brother seemed really cool to the guy for bossing me around.” “Of course I couldn’t stop myself from looking back to see if it really was the man that caused my brother and I so many problems, sadly to say when I looked back it was him.”
“A few minutes of the guy being in the car and all around the gloves were off; I was ready to beat the holy heck out of the guy!” He had caused me so much pain when I was younger and I was ready to repay him.” “I felt like just doing all of the worst things I could come up with to him.” “At the time I was letting all of my emotions get the best of me and look where it lead me: straight to jail because after about five minutes of me knowing that I have the guy that I’ve been waiting for in my Taxi, I pulled out my gun and shot him so until I felt better.” “I know that I shouldn’t of done that nor I shouldn’t of let my emotions get the best of me, and yet I did let it all go down that way.” “I was raised better than that and yet I done something that mom wouldn’t be proud of.” “After I killed the guy I called the cops and turned myself in.” “I served for about twenty-five years in prison and I had more than enough time to learn from my mistakes.”

“After….after I got out of prison I-I”…..(a loud snore) “Gramps? Gramps what happened after you got out of prison?” “Honey it’s time for us to go home!” No, I am not ready because gramps didn’t finish the story!” “One……Two…….” “Okay here I come, bye gramps.” My grandchild never did hear the ending of my story because well I died later that night in my sleep.” “Now I can finally say sorry to my Mom, my brother, and the guy that I killed!” “I hope that they except my dearest apology!”
“This is my story!”
From the dearest Gramps, son, brother, and or friend





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