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By the time you negotiate all the speeding vehicles racing through the parking lot, eager to get to lunch, you decide to opt for the local fast food joint.  You pull into the drive through and order a chicken sandwich and a soda and pull into a small parking lot overlooking a small park.  You sit there, windows down, listening to the birds gaily tweeting away.  About midway across the park you see a small girl playing on some swings.  Her mother is pushing her back and forth and the little girl is giggling like mad every time the swing reaches its apex.  Her face immediately changes to a look of grave concern as gravity snatches the swing and pulls it down to earth, but the sweet safe touch of her mothers hands on her back, brings back the giggles.  This pattern continues on and on until she finally tires of the swing and scampers off to the monkey bars.  You laugh a little to yourself watching such innocent happiness.  You imagine what it would be like to have one of your own.  You breathe a deep sigh with a hint of sadness and crumple up the greasy wrapper on your lap, tossing it in the brown paper bag on the passenger side floor.  You grab your phone from the consol and check the time.  Only 12:30. You still have half an hour left.  



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