Hunchbacked and leaning on his cane, wavering and unsteady, the old man walked to the front porch, decorated with bright yellow sunflowers, exuding warmth and happiness. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay He sat on the brown wooden steps of the porch and watched the world go by, trapped behind the walls of age. He grumbled at the neighbors' noisy children, got up to go back into the house, grunted and creaked with every movement. The old man entered his little vintage house, smelling of freshly baked scones ready for a family tea, prepared by his lovely wife, who was now sitting in the rocking chair, her legs raised as her ankles were swollen with gout. She sat there knitting a brown sweater for her husband, her hands gnarled. The old man sat in the rocking chair, thinking of when he was young, of his waning youth. Once was a rock and roll, now he just rocks the chair. With the notes he heard, he thought he heard a car outside. He stood up, leaning forward to keep his balance and walked towards the porch, his skin taut and transparent tinged with blue on his gnarled bones. He stood at the front door looking down the driveway, a light, cold breeze ruffling his hair, a crown of faded glory. He had heard right, he saw his son get out of the small Audi A3 convertible with his family, he warmly welcomed all four family members and forcefully signaled them to enter the house with his cane. While the old lady prepared tea and served her family, the old man; a faded version of his son, he struck up a conversation with his son, occasionally drifting away. Please note: this is just an example. Get a custom paper from our expert writers now. Get a Custom Essay Spend some time with his two nephews, he told them about his World War II experiences, his memory as dim as his eyes. He sat there thinking back to the days when he was young, along with all his youthful memories and when he first met his wife; her electrifying smile had won him over and her heavenly eyes. He still had a young mind, a young heart, trapped in an old, wrinkled leather costume. Later that night, after taking all his medicine, hot water bottle and Ben Gay, he lay in bed, thinking about his life as an old man, heartbroken as he longed for his old social and active life; the closest he could get to a social life now was on bingo nights. Everyone wants to live long but no one wants to grow old. Old age is an essential part of human life. It's the evening of life.