I'm procrastinating and there isn't enough Bross.

The Best Days of His Life.

He was old now, he had lived through many years. But his story was coming to an end now. He could feel it in his shaking hands and slowing heart. He could feel it in the way his eyes were dimming and his joints failing. He could feel it in his loneliness.

Denny had never been a great hero, he had never been famous. He hadn't ever wanted to. He loved the simple things in life. But as he cast his mind back, he was sure he had lived a good life, a full life.

"Grandpa?" A, eight-year-old girl with dark blue eyes and muddy brown hair trundled out on to the porch. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"The best days of my life."

The girl tipped her head to the side, and scrambled in to the old man's lap. "Tell me."

Denny laughed, ruffling his great-granddaughters hair. "All right."