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The couch was leather and comfortable, The smell in the room was a pleasing combination of the couch and some other olfactory essence designed to put a mind at ease allowing the smoothest stream of uninhibited thoughts.

"So, I get to this place where I'm no longer myself, merely a sea of atoms made into the form of me, Just the other day I saw on the news scientists detected the part of the brain which creates the illusion of free will.That really hit me hard"

The one seated across from Fred took a slug from a vitamin laced bottle of overpriced colored water.His professional half-glance at the clock on the wall behind told him this session was drawing to a close.

The semi head tilt into a sideways expression of detached curiousity."Hit you in what way?.."

"Well it made me double down on all of my beliefs, But when I go to this place now I can feel the existence of God.. as at the end of the road of truth is where he is, smiling while offering a window seat."

He tried to resume Professional reality, "Well, great, You have been thinking deep again, How is work Fred?" The word stank of alarm clocks, highway congestion and the stifling of souls. "Couldn't be better' It was the honest truth in his mind. It's work, It can never be "better."

A bell chimed in some inconspicuous corner of the room, The session ended, Fred handed over my co-pay. He thought of suggesting exercise as a better and cheaper health tonic, thought better of it as that would be free advice, said good night and left. Even overweight therapists can dream of a quick fix.Live and let live.

He stepped from central air to the warm seaside breeze of a hot August evening. The town was alive, Fearless kids on darting bicycles weaved thru traffic and barely clipped pedestrians, Lovers sat by the waters' edge, intertwined in a moment, glowing along with the sunset. Parents bought their kids ice cream, smiled while staring at nothing. Making memories for future days, When their homes became just houses again.

He had what seemed to be all of it here in this place once, Then he was reminded that we can only count on change, Thoughts escaped his mind like styrofoam peanuts exploding out of a shipping container.

At the end of Main St the car ferry stood poised at the dock, ready to engulf or disgorge another load of vehicles and their occupants.Fred walked past the busy terminal entrance, skipped the crowds, shortcutting his way to a grassy public knoll at the edge of the business district.

Bill Tanner sat next to the park bench, useless legs dangling as he sat hunched over in his motorized wheelchair, absorbed in watching his Black Lab chase a frisbee thrown by a couple of local kids.

The dog too, totally living in the moment, running, diving, smashing the disc into the ground as it was a creature in his jaws, instinctual traits on 10, Doing what dogs do, staying totally in the moment."It's a great day to be alive Fred, care for a game?" Bill dropped a handful of pistachio shells on the ground and gestured toward the chessboard stowed in the chairs' side pocket."Thanks Bill" Fred responded as he walked over, "Today however I'm having issues staying barely in THIS moment.. a strategy game?, Thinking ahead? I'm afraid it would be over before it started Bill.." The wheelchair bound man smiled, shrugged and setup his board, He removed a worn softcover copy of "100 Classic Openings of the Russian Masters" out of his pocket while simultaneously admiring the multi hued sky.

The dog dropped the frisbee at Bill's feet, sat up next to him and slobbered kisses while he rubbed her neck. Fred wondered if the dog was recalling Bill before the accident, when he could run and wrestle and hurl the plastic disc like no one else during days that seemed to last forever.Bill put down the book and grabbed a fistful of nuts, "It's the limits they gave us Fred, we only can comprehend so much, The most of it we can never imagine.We were not designed to know it all, otherwise all this would not be possible.."

He pointed to the car ferry, the orderly line of cars waiting their turn, the people on the sidewalks, absorbed in their hopes and dreams as they gazed at shop windows and also those who tried to keep all of them on the right track for a co-pay.

'So we get beautiful days to contemplate it with, more questions than answers, But if this is all that here is well then, Who exactly put it there?, and who made it make would we call "sense?"

The dog grabbed the saliva covered frisbee and ran toward the boys who were now creating a nuisance with skateboards across the park. Fred grabbed a handful of pistachos, thought of the wise moment when some enlightened soul decided that all of these didn't have to be dyed red like in the old days. The nuts always dyed your hands and clothes red as well.

Bill was intently setting up defensive postures to the Ruy Lopez opening, Fred felt thirsty but somehow renewed. "Life is as good as I allow it to be Bill," He walked away toward the sunset craving a diet coke.

An approaching rumble startled Fred, he felt something fall on his foot, looked down at the frisbee out of his periphery four legged positive motion jumped in front of him calling him into action. He picked up the disc and hurled it beyond the sky,



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