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short story line

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he could hear the birds. feel the heat beating down through the trees, yet without opening his eyes, he knew he wasn’t in a park. the smell of rusted metal, and old oil and grease permeated the air.  his body was heavy, unresponsive, and whatever was on his chest was not going anywhere fast.

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his eyes still closed, he knew, instinctively knew, that the weight on this chest was alive, and it was gazing hard, accessing, patiently waiting.  Did he want to see what held him captive, sooner or later, he would have to look.  The weight on his chest shifted, but did not move away, he could feel the warm breath on his face. He was too stiff, tired and dazed, it would be unwise to move suddenly, if he could at all.  With a slow intake of his breath, he allowed his eyes to open.

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the sun hurt his eyes but he forced himself to keep them open, there was lush vegetation all around from what he could see, he was surrounded by the remains of vehicles, he was in a graveyard of scrap metal.  what he tried to avoid and was not succeeding were the dark emerald eyes flecked with gold that stared into his.  There was no emotion not human anyway that looked into his, just a pair of hypnotic eyes that spoke volumes, but none that he could recognize.

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suddenly the sun no longer gave him warmth.  now he felt a chill, it travelled from his head down to his feet.  This was something very different and very real, This was a she, he was sure, he was being held captive by a she, and he knew… she was wondering just what to do.  She wasn’t hurting him, she wasn’t gentle, she was exploring and sizing him up, but for what.  Why was he not afraid.  what was it that kept him still, and wondering, almost a partner in this unknown dance.

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life is what we make it.  how we respond to situations in life, can change the course or direction of our lives.  live being mindful of who you are and the opportunities around you. =^_^=

This is my story, that I’m sharing with you.  My mind likes to invent when I’m driving and waiting for lights or in traffic.

PL Precept # 2  To live is to express One’s Self

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