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Feb 2016
Upon worn cobblestones barefoot I go. Prancing by a babbling brook, across an ancient bridge, of like manner. Old mortar and well worn stones beneath my feet. The coolness arises through me giving me a chill, as I watch minnows dash about below in the clear dark water. On the path I go, exploring the dark wooded trail. Looking at thickets of bushes, wondering what mystical creature might be hiding there in. Onward I go on my journey, until the path comes round again to an open way. A clear gravel road gleaming of white stones, I leave the path and venture onto it, wondering where my next journey will lead me.
James M Vines
Written by
James M Vines  50/M/Atlanta Georgia
(50/M/Atlanta Georgia)   
362
 
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