“On this bike, son, I ride to the stars and back every night.”
“It really doesn’t look like it goes anywhere, grandad,” says Joshua doubtfully, surveying the rusting wreck.
“The power of a man’s imagination son,” Oscar says waving airily at the clouds, “the buoyancy of clouds… the inspiration of your dreams…”
“So how do you bring it back down to earth then?”
An ear-splitting voice echoes from the back of the house.
“You get your pontificatin’ fat ass in here this minute, Oscar.”
Oscar flushes dull red, scratches his stubble.
“Umm… you need a woman for that, son.”
An edited version of written for a similar prompt back in 2013. No time to come up with something new for Friday Fictioneers as we had the grandies staying last week, and the rest of the family this week. Thanks to Rochelle, who looks to have had a terrific time meeting up with her family this last week.