Scary...

The other day, Tony sent me an e-mail of something he had written while sitting in Loring Park. I could not believe what I was reading. I mean...see any resemblence between his little writing and my story?? Tony knows that I have written a story that I will not allow him to read, but that's as far as he knows about it. And I wrote it like three weeks ago, this is only two days old...

"TODAY, PARADISE"
As I walk this path, It guides me through paradise. Paradise that is separated into smaller paradises by an endless number of rolling hills, that I cannot see beyond. When I ascend to the top of one hill, I am warmed by sunlight, and can see new grass covered hills, and I am happy. When I descend into the valley between two hills I emerse into the shade of a new tree, and am surrounded by vibrant vegetation that outlines my path, and I am happy then too. The wind brings a different scent each time it comes, and a new thought is remembered. I realize that paradise is not only around me but also inside me everytime I breath, or take in these placid visions. My paradise is nothing more thatn a walk in the park on a sunny day.

Hills that he cannot see beyond? Hills that he climbs and he sees sunshine? Vibrant vegetation?