The creaking of that old chair is all which they could hear, ''take a seat'' he said and move it near, he would tell a story of which he was very fond; it included a bike, an old friend, and a huge duck pond; He spoke these words time and time, no remembrance of telling it but, once more would be fine, He chuckled and chuckled at the top of his lungs telling of his friend and how off his bike he was flung, With a smile, he glanced at the family around a sudden moment of silence; '' Whats your name?'' he frowned A nervous laughter from his daughter he heard : But the man? he just stared. Unsure of these people who once more came to visit, ''story telling is my job, so your problem what is it?!'' His voice he projected, confusion portrayed; great sadness in his family, but by his side they stayed.