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August 18, 2002
You walk home one September afternoon. The leaves are barely changing. You spot two red-oranges, and a yellow-red. They remind you of Florida. Of that swimsuit on that chick immodestly flaunting herself. You pass a CD store. In the window you glimpse yourself in the glass. The contentment in your CD-window-image's smile makes you stare at your reflection. The store-owner is smilingly proud of the display that has captured you. But you've captured yourself. For a time as quick as an autumn breeze and more striking than a body on the beach, you feel in yourself peace, surpassing all understanding.