The Merry Old Cyborg

Balthazar, 101, reached out with his less stiff hand and closed it around a cookie. As he brought it closer to his face he realised it was a stocking and not a malformed gingerbread man. Not that it mattered, it had been months since Balthazar could taste anything.
The doctors called it as Ageusia, Balthazar called it as Life, another item checked off on the long list of items one loses with age. Most of these items could be replaced or assisted; his teeth had been replaced by imitations, his eyes assisted by glasses, his memory by photographs.
Taste however...
Balthazar bit into the cookie and concentrated on the way it broke down and crumbled like a little civilisation swiftly eroded away by the elements of his mouth. He figured it was just as well he couldn't taste anything, he heard nothing but complaints from other "guests" about the food anyway.
His health assisted by pills, his movement by a cane, and his dwelling replaced by an assisted living center.
Balthazar was then struck by the thought of himself as a creature from a science fiction film.
The thought amused him. He pictured himself as a cyborg trapped on an alien planet.
These thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a needlessly loud knock at his door.
Balthazar’s eyebrows lowered in confusion over his sunken eyes like two large furry dragons descending in unison upon identical watery caverns.
The knocking persisted until Balthazar made eye contact with a pair of inquisitive eyes that gave away this girl being full of mischief.
Her name was Ivy, 11, the child of his old neighbors who he secretly gave knife throwing lessons to.
Her presence gave Balthazar an idea.
Quietly, Ivy and Balthazar made their way to the kitchen, all the while Balthazar's imagination narrated the adventure with thoughts of his cyborg navigating the treacherous alien planet with the help of a clever mutant.
In the kitchen they searched for knives.
Balthazar reached out with his less stiff hand and selected one he found suitable for throwing.
He lifted the knife parallel with his glasses and searched for something to throw at.
Ivy helpfully offered a stack of Christmas cards.
Balthazar pictured the cyborg again. Despite having lost most of its original parts, it still managed to retain a skill buried deep in its mind.