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     The engine stops with a whine as you turn the key off,  You step out onto the asphalt and close the door, walking over the curb and into the cool grass, your heels sinking into the soft dirt.  Balancing like a ballerina to avoid breaking a heel, you wander into the park. with no particular destination.  You tiptoe through the grass towards the little girl playing with her mom.  Giggles echo through the park, in perfect sync with the bright little face of the joyous child.  You sit down on a bench near the play area and take a deep breath, enjoying the warm afternoon.  You tilt your head back and close your eyes...enjoying the way the hot sun feels on your face.  You feel the warmth flood over your skin matching the warm reddish glow illuminating your eyes beneath the lids.  You can hear the leaves rustling in the trees overhead and you sigh as the stresses of the week seem to leave with your breath.  


"Nice day isn't it?"  You quickly whip your head forward, looking for the source of the deep mystery voice.  To your left, a man is leaning up against a tree with his arms crossed, gazing slightly upward at the passing wispy clouds.  Was he there before?  you ask yourself. You don't remember seeing him, and you should have noticed because he is a very prominant figure.  Perhaps you were just distracted by the happy little girl playing on the swings. 


You nod your head in agreement, caught a bit off guard and unsure what to say.  He is a very handsome man.  a bit older than you, but with a striking chiseled face and a strong angular chin.  He squints into the sun, accentuating the deep laugh lines around his eyes. He is reminiscent of a sexy cowboy from one of those old westerns your grandfather used to watch.  You admire him for a moment and then look down at your watch.  About time to head back to work.  You brush your skirt straight and nod to the man leaning against the tree as if to say goodbye.  He tips an imaginary hat to you and flashes you a disarming smile.  Your cheeks blush slightly at his chivilrous, albeit outdated gesture.  You drop your head as a smile creeps across your face, hoping he won't notice your girlish behavior.  You again stand and again straighten your skirt and proceed to ballerina step back to the car.  

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