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Change. It was grandpa. It was as though he wanted to tell me something. He didnt want seem to want me to leave.

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´╗┐Change I?d grown up in a middle class family with 3 brothers and 2 sisters. I was neither the youngest nor the oldest and at times I felt dead. I?d been neglected since the age I could barely stand on my own two feet. It wasn?t that my parents disliked me; of course they liked me. I ?was? and ?am? their son but I had a peculiar relationship with everyone in my family and I was the runt for sure. There was one man who I felt I could connect with; I felt we shared something, and he was my grandpa. It was a type of power that evolved whenever we approached one another but we very rarely visited him because, just like me, the rest of my family thought he was just a tad on the bizarre side of life and the black sheep of the family. They did not like the company he kept, especially Clive. About four years ago mother and father went away to celebrate a wedding anniversary. My siblings and I were sent to stay with grandpa for a period of two days. ...read more.


My mind began to run riot with all sorts of conspiracy theories ? perhaps some of those stories he had told me were true. The one person who understood me was gone. My mother read the will out. I was hopeful that our special relationship would bear fruit, and I thought he must have given me something of value, something from the treasures he had in his house. But I was wrong once again. I inherited some spare change ?several coins from all over the globe, different shapes and sizes, tarnished, and to me useless. After a few weeks of somewhat lacklustre planning a funeral was thrown together. I took coins from grandpa to the funeral ? although they didn?t seem that special, I wanted to have the change in my pocket as I said my goodbyes to him. On reflection, I had realised I wasn?t bothered what I had received from him. After all I had been prevented from seeing him for 4 years before his untimely (and to my mind suspicious) death so I probably shouldn?t have expected too much. ...read more.


I tried to remember the stories that grandpa had told me and used my mind to embellish them, often including sinister things happening to one of my brothers or sisters. As I did this for the sixth or seventh time I pulled out a sharp sided coin, looking almost as though it had been made like this on purpose. Wrapping the coin in the napkin and placing it in my trouser pocket, I decided I had had enough of being solitary and I made my way out into the damp and musty air and round to grandpa?s freshly dug grave. It was eerie in the graveyard ? night was beginning to fall. At the side of grandpa?s grave was a stooped figure dressed in black. It was Clive. I took out the coin which had a few small words barely legible on it. I read the words out loud. It read ?Is all that we see or seem, but a dream within a dream?? Clive gasped. Several days later I received in the post an identical coin with a scrap of paper which read ?hang onto these coins lad, one day you will be able to change them into a fortune.? ...read more.

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