If someone had told him sixty years ago what he was about to do now, he would have laughed so hard it may have induced a heart attack.
Arthur was very much old school, pen, paper, slide rule or logs, and now here he was about to embark on the wonders of technology.
The lockdown had hit him hard. A widower for thirty years he was set in his ways, remembering his childhood days of pushbikes, roller skates or go-carts made from scraps of wood and pram wheels with a few nails and a long piece of string.
His grandchildren were all grown up with kids of their own, and the days of dandling babes on knees were long gone. Everything was so different, so automatic, so damn confusing, but you know what they say, if you can’t beat ’em, join em’.
So that’s what he did.
Eighteen months ago he’d enrolled in a computer course at the local community centre and Jemma had taken him under her wing, explaining slowly and simply the basics.
Gradually he had got more confident and now he was ready to see his family regardless of how many hundreds of miles they lived away.
The screen whirred into life, and the sing song dial tones of Skype echoed in the room.
A little bit of focus, and a familiar face came into view.
Arthur grinned at the image of himself in his twenties.
‘Hi Grandad! Look at you!’
‘Hi yourself Mac! How is everybody? It’s so great to see you!’
A chorus of Hi Dad and Grandad resonated in his small apartment.
With tears in his eyes he said it was almost like old times, just socially distant.
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