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Joyce A. Anthony, Author

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Storm

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Maggie

 
Storm headed toward the setting sun.  As he passed, people stopped and watched him.  There was an air about him that demanded attention, although nobody could have put words to what it was.  His dark hair flowed past his shoulders and halfway down his back.  It had never seen a pair of scissors and was thick and wavy, glistening each time the sun glanced off of it.  Eyes of dark obsidian reflected everything he looked at.  They were warm eyes that conveyed a sense of peace and understanding, never revealing the turmoil they hid.  His skin had been permanently wind-burned to a rich tan and his muscles were those of a man who had worked hard, not one who worked out.  Storm's hands were strong and rough, yet he held them in a way that made you picture them wiping away a tear or cradling a wounded bird.  Gentle hands. 
 
To those he passed, it appeared this man knew exactly where he was heading.  He didn't rush, but neither did he linger.  He walked purposefully, taking in all the sights, sounds and smells around him.  Not once did he notice the curious stares of those he passed.

                      

                                    * * * *

A gasp of surprise escaped Storm when a large dog stepped out onto the tracks.  At least Storm thought it was a dog; he had never seen such a wondrous creature as this one.  She looked to weigh about a hundred pounds and her long coat wasn't curly, but lay in waves upon her.  She turned and looked straight at Storm, with eyes the color of amethysts, and he wondered if he were dreaming.  Her coat glowed with a multitude of colors, all blending together.  For a brief moment, Storm thought of his dream.  He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again the dog was still there.  Her coat, however, was pure white. 

It must have been a trick of the light, thought Storm.  Yes, just a trick of the light.

The animal fixed her gaze on Storm and didn't move a muscle or blink an eye.  The sunlight reflected off her coat and Storm could have sworn he saw dancing colors.  Her eyes glowed with mystery and a deep knowledge unlike any possessed by any human or animal Storm had ever had contact with.  Storm sensed no danger from this wondrous creature, and slowly approached her.  He needed to touch her, to prove to himself that she was real, not just a creation of a mind gone mad.

          "It's okay, girl.  Easy now.  I won't hurt you."

Storm kept up a gentle monologue as he drew near her.  She never removed her eyes from his face.  He reached out and touched her side, his hand sinking into her plush coat.  She was definitely real.  Her body was warm to Storm's touch and he could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.  She looked into his eyes and he felt as though her gaze could see into his very soul. 

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